Harry Potter Year 1: Slytherin
by Riddle Wraith
Summary: Harry is chosen for Slytherin instead of Gryffindor and it seems that Tom Riddle has reappeared in an unexpected way. The year is made more turbulent with this unexpected arrival and when Tom finds out about the Philosopher's stone, he wants it; badly.
1. The First Train to Hogwarts

**Harry Potter Year 1: Slytherin**

A Harry Potter fanfiction written by Ignis Lupus/Doughnut_queen

**Warnings:** Spoilers, and possible violence

**Rating:** R for violence and language

**Summary:** Harry is chosen for Slytherin instead of Gryffindor and it seems that Tom Riddle has reappeared in an unexpected way. The year is made more turbulent with this unexpected arrival and when Tom finds out about the Philosopher's stone, he wants it; badly.

**A/N:** I was originally going to make this into something totally different, but I couldn't in good conscience slaughter the original stories like I was going to. Believe me, it is better not to ask what it was going to be. Suffice it to say, this will be, as I was originally planning, a Harry-Slytherin story because Gryffindor sucks. I might make this a HarryXHermione fluff story too, just because I'd like a love story between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. But, I might not because I want it to go another way to. Forgive my indecisiveness but the story is pulling me so many different ways… Anyway, enjoy this, and if you don't, I'll eviscerate you with a silver hunting knife. :D

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! Not the characters, and certainly not any of the cannon events. J.K. Rowling owns everything, except the non cannon events. If I did own the ideas, I'd be insanely rich, but as that is not the case, I present to you my own (slightly twisted) version of how things went, or how I thing they should have in the least. Oh, and as I am trying to follow cannon, some lines are taken directly from the books, and others resemble lines from the books quite closely. Once again, I do NOT own this.

**Ch. 1: The first train to Hogwarts**

Harry Potter sat alone, thinking about all that had happened since his eleventh birthday. Everything that Hagrid had told him, and everything that he had seen in Diagon Alley. He even thought about the blonde he had met in Madam Malkin's Robes for all occasions, wondering idly if he would see him again, and almost hoping he didn't. He didn't like the fact that he insulted Hagrid, but then he was also the only one he would have seen before. He wanted to make friends, but he really didn't know how to go about doing it and the boy wouldn't like him anyway if he found out that Harry was raised by muggles. Harry sighed, staring out the window as the landscape went by.

'Great. I'm off to a school of Magic and I'll still have no friends.' He thought, though he was secretly glad not to have as much attention as he'd had in Diagon Alley. It was all he needed for someone to ask him more questions about things he didn't know, or couldn't remember. He was off to, what seemed to him, a rocky start in the wizarding world. He even bet he'd be bottom in the class. He didn't know anything about what they were learning, as he hadn't been allowed to touch his books since he got them. As he sat, almost brooding, he heard the compartment door open, and as he turned to look, three boys stepped inside. Harry remembered the boy in the middle as the one he had met in Diagon Alley.

"I'd heard the famous Harry Potter was on the train, but I just had to come and see for myself." The blonde said, his eyes widening in recognition of Harry. Obviously, he remembered meeting him as well. Behind him, two of the biggest eleven year-olds Harry had ever seen were nodding stupidly in agreement.

"Sitting alone? I would expect you to be swarmed by now." The blonde said, smirking and taking the seat across from Harry. He waved his hulking escorts in, and as they sat down, the blonde decided to introduce them.

"This is Crabbe, and that's Goyle." The blonde said, gesturing to the two in turn with a bored expression. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." The blonde said, holding out his hand. Harry shook it, not wanting to spurn his first potential friend. The boy may have been rude to Hagrid, but if he wanted to make friends he supposed he didn't have to agree with all of the blonde's opinions.

"It's nice to meet you." Harry said, responding in turn. Draco smiled, as if saying "Of course it is" and leaned back in his seat.

"Anyway, I heard you were raised by muggles." Draco said, a disgusted look on his face. "That must have been awful."

"It was. They hated me." Harry said scornfully, crossing his arms as he thought of the Dursleys.

"They probably didn't know who you are. I heard muggles weren't all that smart." Draco said with a smirk.

"Oh, they knew. They knew before I did. They just didn't know what it meant and they didn't care." Harry said, his mood getting worse.

"How awful. Why in the world were you left with muggles anyway? I bet there were plenty of pure-blood families who would've loved to be able to raise the boy-who-lived." Draco said, Crabbe and Goyle nodding in agreement though Harry couldn't tell if the two actually knew what was going on.

"Beats me. I would've loved to be anywhere else. Who ever put me there didn't care all that much, did they?" Harry said, thoroughly cursing whoever had placed him at the Dursleys.

"So, considering you were raised by muggles, how much do you actually know about our world?" Draco asked, looking at Harry with a vague interest now.

"Not much." Harry admitted, blushing with embarrassment.

"Well, stick with me then. I suppose I can show you the ropes. Normally I wouldn't do something like this, but seeing as you're you, I can make an exception. Especially since you're so under educated on the way a wizard should behave, and who he should associate with." Draco said, sniffing with disapproval as he remembered Harry defending the big oaf Hagrid.

"Okay." Harry said, shrugging. He might as well learn what he could about the wizarding world so he didn't look like a complete idiot. They continued to chat about different things, and Harry was slowly learning about different wizarding traditions, as well as the different kinds of witches and wizards. There were Pure-bloods, Half-bloods, and Muggle-borns, which Draco referred to as Mudbloods. Then he complained that the word Mudblood was frowned upon at school, and that in front of teachers, they had to call them Muggle-borns. As time passed, the lunch cart finally came around and between Harry and Draco, they bought almost the whole cart.

Luckily, it seemed that the cart refilled itself magically after the money was exchanged. They laughed and ate together, Crabbe and Goyle eating the most, and when they were down to the last few chocolate frogs, Draco having explained the collecting of chocolate frog cards to Harry, a bushy haired girl popped her head into the compartment. She was followed by a slightly pudgy and rather forlorn looking boy.

"Have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost one." The girl said, gesturing toward the boy next to her.

"No, sorry." Harry said, shrugging.

"A toad? Why would anyone in their right mind want to keep one? I think I'd lose mine on purpose if I had one." Draco said, rolling his eyes. At this, Neville looked even worse. The girl just gave Draco a dirty look. She decided to ignore the blonde as she spoke up.

"Well, thank you anyway." The girl said, looking at Harry as she spoke. She smiled at him and led the forlorn boy away, closing the compartment door behind her.

"Ha! I can't believe they actually let _her_ kind go to Hogwarts!" Draco said, glaring at the compartment door.

"Her kind?" Harry asked, confused.

"Mudbloods. I heard about her when I was looking for you. She's an annoying know-it-all. Everyone thinks so." Draco said, and although Harry wanted to say something, he knew making enemies of the boy was not a good idea. He had a feeling it would be more beneficial to him to stay on his good side. He could disagree with him openly once he was sure the boy liked him enough to forgive him for it. Until then, he wanted to be careful not to make enemies. He wouldn't call Muggle-borns Mudbloods, but he would contend with Draco for the time being. Maybe he could become friends with the girl too. Maybe he could even get Draco to put up with her and eventually like her as well.

It was a long shot, but he felt somehow that he could do it. He was good at persuading people, after all. This should be a simple matter. Harry decided to try to find out how much Draco knew about her.

"What's her name?" Harry asked, figuring Draco had to know at least that much.

"Hermione Granger. Why, Potter? Interested?" Draco teased, smirking.

"Hardly. She just seems like she'd be an interesting person to talk to." Harry said casually, gauging Draco's reaction.

"Pff. You can go talk to her. I won't have anything to do with her. Just let me know when you're done slumming so I can teach you more about what you _should_ already know." Draco said, figuring Harry wouldn't make a move to talk to the bushy haired girl.

"I wasn't talking about now. I was talking about in school." Harry said, making no move to get up. Draco smiled at the predictable reaction.

"Of course. But then, she probably won't be in the same house as us. You see, we, that is, you and I both, are more Slytherin material. She's going to Ravenclaw. I'll bet you 10 galleons." Draco said with a confident smirk.

"I'm Slytherin material? What makes you say that?" Harry asked, wondering truly whether or not Draco had gone insane in the last few seconds.

"Oh come on Potter. Despite your past, that is, defeating the Dark Lord, I can tell just from our conversation, common as it was, that you're cunning. Intelligence goes hand in hand with that. You're also observant. You watched how I acted and you reacted in an intelligent manner. Then, there's the fact that you're trying to stay on my good side, and yes, Potter, I had noticed. You would like to say certain things and even reprimand me for using the word Mudblood, yet you hold your tongue. That, to me, shows both that you're ambitious, in the way of trying to be the friend of a Malfoy, and that you're manipulative, in the fact that you're acting how you think I want you to act to better build my opinion of you. In short, you are Slytherin, Potter, no matter what anyone else says." Draco said, pleased with himself. Harry smiled, despite himself.

"You're observant too. Maybe we would do well in Slytherin. It's just…" Harry said, not really wanting to bring it up. Yet it kept nagging at him. He couldn't help but think about what Hagrid had said about Slytherin.

'There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one.'

Harry didn't want to disappoint his big friend, but he had already made a friend that was probably going to be in Slytherin, and he didn't want to be separated from him, especially when he could be so useful.

"Just what?" Draco asked, guessing at what Harry was getting at.

"It's just…something Hagrid said." Harry said, shaking his head. He was in turmoil.

"Potter, despite what people think, Slytherins aren't all evil. I all but know I'm going to Slytherin, and I'm not evil, am I? Sure, I'm not the nicest bloke around, but I'm sure as hell _not_ evil. It doesn't matter that the Dark Lord was Slytherin, because it doesn't mean every Slytherin will be like him. Most of them don't want to be." Draco said with conviction, defending his future house with pride. Crabbe and Goyle, once again, nodded in agreement. Harry almost laughed at how much the two looked like those muggle contraptions called bobble heads. This thought, along with Draco's admission brought him a kind of peace, calming the turmoil within.

"Well, I guess you're right Draco. It won't be all bad, especially if you're there. I guess if I'm in Slytherin, I'm in Slytherin. Nothing to do but wait and see where we're put, I guess. No use dwelling on it." Harry said, smiling. He wasn't going to let it get to him anymore. He guessed, wherever they put him, he would try to make due. It wasn't like he couldn't make friends. Sure, he didn't know how to go about it very well, but he would try. Still smiling, he decided to try to turn the conversation to a more normal subject.

They spent the rest of the time talking about Quidditch after Draco had explained the rules to him, and the two of them fantasized about being chosen for one of the house teams. When they got close to Hogwarts, a voice ringing through the train to let them know as much, as well as telling them to leave the luggage on so it could be taken up separately, they all changed into their school robes. A few minutes later, they got ready to leave the train as it pulled into Hogsmeade station. The excitement, mixing with the ambient magic around them, was almost palpable in the air as the four boys stepped out onto the platform. Suddenly, a familiar voice rang across the platform, and Harry, ignoring Draco's annoyed look, went over to see his giant friend.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there Harry?" Hagrid asked Harry as he approached him, the reluctant blonde in tow with his two body guards. Harry just beamed up at Hagrid. He almost couldn't believe this was real. He was really away from his cupboard and he was going to school to learn magic! Hagrid broke him out of his thoughts almost at once. "C'mon, follow me! Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Hagrid boomed over the crowd of eleven year olds, and without a word, the first years began to follow the giant man, slipping and stumbling down a steep narrow path surrounded by tall, intimidating looking trees. Nobody spoke much, but Harry noticed that Draco was keeping closer to him, probably so as not to be lost in the crowd of first years and separated.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' around this bend here." There was a collective gasp at the sight of the huge castle perched on a high mountain overlooking a vast, black lake. "No more'n four in a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of small boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle got into a boat, and Harry fleetingly saw Granger get into a boat with the boy who had lost his toad, Neville, if he recalled, a freckled redhead, who Harry remembered as the Weasley that came on to the Platform with him after he had asked his mother to tell him how to get onto it, and an Irish looking boy whom Harry did not know.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then; FORWARD!" Hagrid yelled, and with that the fleet of small boats carrying the first years moved off all at once, gliding across the vast, black lake, which was smooth as glass. Most of the first years were in awe of the glittering castle, including Harry. Draco was one of the only ones who didn't seem overly impressed. The huge castle towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. "Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff. They all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face.

They sailed along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle. After a half a minute, they reached an underground harbor, where they quickly clambered out onto a small beach covered in rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is that your toad?" Hagrid asked, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" Neville cried, grabbing his toad out of the boat nearest Hagrid and looking as if he would cry from relief. Harry smiled inwardly. He'd hate to lose a pet, so he was glad that Neville had gotten his toad back. Draco just rolled his eyes. After Hagrid was done checking the boats, he led them through a passageway in the rock, coming out onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They then followed him across the lawn and up a flight of stone steps, crowding around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid asked Neville, the boy nodding in the affirmative and holding Trevor up for him to see. With that, Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. Harry smiled to himself. He couldn't wait to see what wonders a school of magic had for him, even on his first night here.

Ch. End


	2. The Sorting of the Houses

**Ch. 2: The Sorting of the Houses**

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone he wanted to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said, gesturing toward the eleven year-olds crowded around him.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall said, pulling the door open wide. As Harry looked around, he noticed that the entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and the magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right.

'The rest of the school must already be here.' he mused, following the Professor into a small, empty chamber off the hall with the rest of the first years. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they usually would have, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony, because while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each had produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, which is a great honor. I hope each and every one of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all make sure you are presentable while you are waiting." Professor McGonagall said, her eyes lingering for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and Weasley, who had a smudge on his nose. Harry made a quick effort to try to flatten his hair, but to no avail. "I shall return when we are ready for you." Said Professor McGonagall, "Please wait quietly." And with that she left the chamber. Harry looked at Draco.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" he asked, hoping it wasn't any sort of magical test. He would surely fail if it were. He had _no_ magical experience before this, as his relatives were scared of magic and wouldn't let him touch his books beforehand.

"Father told me about this. It's nothing to worry about." Draco said, smirking. Harry felt a little better, but he still wanted to know.

"But what do we have to do?" Harry asked, wanting to know exactly what it was. After all, Draco had been raised by wizards, so of course it would be no problem for him, but Harry was raised by muggles. What might be nothing to worry about for Draco might be a _huge_ problem for Harry.

"You'll see." Draco said with another smirk, enjoying how nervous Harry was.

"Draco-" Harry whined, but he was cut off by a scream that made him jump about a foot in the air. Behind them, about twenty ghosts had just come through the back wall, and they seemed to be having an argument about someone named Peeves. They suddenly stopped and looked at the first years.

"I say, what are you all doing here?" a ghost wearing a ruff around his neck and tights asked. Nobody answered. The other ghost, called the Fat Friar by the ghost in tights in the earlier argument, spoke up.

"New students!" he said, looking around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?" he asked with a pleasant yet chilling smile. A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know." He said, nodding enthusiastically.

"Move along now!" said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to begin." Professor McGonagall had returned, and was ushering the ghosts through the opposite wall out into the hall. "Now, form a line and follow me." She told them, waiting until they lined up. Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line and ended up behind Granger, with Draco behind him and Crabbe and Goyle a few people back. They made their way back through the doors, across the entrance hall, and through the double doors that led into the Great Hall.

As they entered, Harry looked on in wonder at the thousands and thousands of candles floating in mid-air above four long tables, where the rest of the student body sat. At the head of the hall was another long table, at which the teachers were sitting. Every table was laden with hundreds of glittering golden plates and goblets. A quick glance upward made Harry wonder, oddly, if the hall were open to the elements. His unspoken question was quickly answered by the girl in front of him, who seemed to follow his gaze upward.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_." Hermione whispered, receiving a small smile from Harry before his nerves returned. They were led up to the staff table, where they were lined up along it, facing the student body and the four long tables which Harry guessed were the house tables. The question of the ceremony was answered almost immediately as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she put an old pointed wizard's hat. The hat was patched, frayed, and extremely dirty.

'A hat? What would we possibly do with a ratty old hat? Do we have to pull a rabbit out of it or something?' Harry thought, almost shaking his head in amusement. For a few seconds, silence reined, and then all of a sudden, something happened that almost gave Harry a heart attack. The hat twitched, a rip opened up near the brim, and the hat broke into song.

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends,_

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a thinking cap!"_

With the end of the song, the whole hall burst into applause. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

'Oh, good. We just have to put on the ratty thing.' Harry thought, glaring at Draco for not telling him. He did wish they could try it on without everyone watching. He didn't want any more attention than he was already getting. It made him uncomfortable. He wanted to be able to hide; to be as obscure as possible. As it stood, they would be called one at a time, and he knew, to his own chagrin, that his name would garner attention whether he wanted it to or not. He sighed. He was ready, and he wanted to get this over with. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long scroll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She said, and with that she started to call names.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. After a moment's pause, the hat shouted its decision.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down there. Harry noticed the Fat Friar, the Ghost of Hufflepuff, waving merrily at the girl as she sat down.

"Bones, Susan!"

She too went up to the stool, put the hat on, and sat down.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted again, and again the girl went to join her table with much applause.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Her reception was the same as the first, and she sat down with her housemates.

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far left exploded with cheers.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

To the sound of applause she went and sat down at the table second to the right.

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Crabbe, following Millicent's example, went to sit down at the Slytherin table to a polite amount of applause.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

More applause and Justin went to sit with his House mates. Harry fleetingly noticed that sometimes, the hat shouted out the House at once, but sometimes it took a little while to decide. The next one took almost a minute to decide before the House was called.

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

He went to sit with his year mates, the Gryffindors being loud as usual.

"Goyle, Gregory!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Goyle, getting little more applause than Crabbe, went to sit beside his hulking friend at his House table.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Granger almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. The hat seemed to hesitate for half a minute, before it shouted out the name of her new House.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard a groan from somewhere to his right as Hermione went to sit with her cheering table, and he had to fight the urge to look.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

The boy who kept losing his toad hurried up to the stool and put the hat on, sitting down like the rest on the stool. After a whole minute, the hat finally shouted its answer.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville ran toward his cheering table to sit down, forgetting in his haste to take the hat off and hurrying back, his face red, handing it to the next person that was called.

"MacDougal, Morag."

"RAVENCLAW!"

He went to sit with his peers, the usual applause ringing.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Draco smirked at Harry as he swaggered toward the stool. He barely put the hat on when he got his wish.

"SLYTHERIN!"

With a smirk, and louder than usual applause, he went to sit beside Vincent and Gregory, pointedly saving a spot as he looked at Harry.

"Moon, Helena!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Smiling, she went to sit with her year mates to much applause.

"Nott, Theodore!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

He went to sit at his table, getting more applause than Vince or Greg, but not quite as much as Draco.

"Parkinson, Pansy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

With applause she too went to sit with the other Slytherins.

"Patil, Padma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

She got up to enthusiastic applause and joined her year mates.

"Patil, Parvati!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Parvati looked a little disappointed to be separated from her sister, but went to sit with the cheering Gryffindors.

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Her House mates clapping, too went to sit.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry's heart gave a lurch. He could hear whispering breaking out all over the Great Hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

'How did I know?' he silently asked himself, almost shaking his head. He sighed inwardly and strode to the stool, sitting on the stool and placing the hat on his head like everyone else. The last thing he saw before the hat slipped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning their necks to get a good look at him.

"Hmmm…" said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of talent, I see. Not a bad mind either. You prefer anonymity over your fame…interesting. Yet, you have an odd thirst to prove yourself. Yes. So, where shall I put you? Ravenclaw? Or perhaps you would do better in Slytherin. They could certainly help you in your endeavor to hide yourself, and you would make real friends."

"Put me with Draco." Harry muttered, wanting to be in Slytherin with his first wizarding friend.

"Very well then…SLYTHERIN!"

As Harry pulled off the hat, there was a polite amount of applause for him at the Slytherin table, but most of the older years looked scandalized. Draco motioned to the seat next to him, and with a shrug he went to sit next to him, ignoring the looks he got and the whispers he heard along the way. He finally got a decent look at the high table as he turned around. At the nearest end sat Hagrid, looking for all the world, confused, and even slightly hurt. In the center of the table sat an older looking wizard with glasses, long silver hair, and a beard to match. He was clothed in robes of violet-blue, and he was frowning. Draco nudged him and started to speak.

"That's Albus Dumbledore. I don't know what to make of him myself, but father says he's a prat and a muggle lover." Draco said scornfully, sniffing in disdain. Harry looked a little further down the table, and he noticed the young Professor Quirell, the one he'd met in the Leaky Cauldron, sitting next to a dark looking man in black robes. As the two professors looked at him, frowning as well, he felt a sudden sharp pain in his scar. He rubbed it away quickly, looking away from the two of them and hoping no one noticed his discomfort. Now, it appeared, there were only four left to be sorted.

"Thomas, Dean!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindors still cheered, but Harry swore it sounded somewhat more subdued than before.

"Turpin, Lisa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

This applause too, was subdued as she went to sit. It seemed everyone was still preoccupied with Harry's odd sorting, and he wished he could just sink into the seat even with Draco sitting beside him and whispering words of encouragement, which Harry was sure was odd for him.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Ah, so that was the Weasley's first name. Harry was sure he heard Draco mutter "Blood traitor." And Harry almost snickered. Draco had told him what it meant, and he had told him what a nutter the Weasleys' father was. From what Draco had heard, Mr. Weasley liked to collect plugs from various muggle electrical devices. Sounded like a nutter if he'd ever saw one.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The redhead visibly relaxed and went to his table, his twin brother's clapping him on the back as he reached the table and sitting him down.

'Well, there's a surprise.' Harry thought sarcastically, having noticed the twin redheads at the Gryffindor table before Weasley had been sorted. They had helped him get his luggage on the train at platform 9 ¾. He knew they were Weasleys, because they had introduced themselves as such, and they had seemed cool, but with a nutter father like that, he was sure they were people Draco would hate to see him around. Draco had also made a crack about the family being poor, but Harry wouldn't have minded that fact so much.

He himself had been poor too until he found out on his eleventh birthday that not only was he a wizard, but he had a small fortune in wizarding gold in Gringotts, the wizard bank. Of course, he would never have admitted to Draco how poor he used to be. He didn't want to be ridiculed by the blonde because of those stupid muggles that were supposed to be his relatives. He wanted to be friends with Draco and they weren't going to stand in the way of that.

"Zabini, Blaise!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry applauded loudly with the rest of his table, eager to have this sorting done with. He knew it was over because McGonagall was rolling up the scroll. Harry scooted to make room for Blaise, and when the seat was taken, the hall, particularly the Slytherin table, quieted down again. He looked hungrily down at his plate, hoping to be fed soon. As luck would have it though, Albus Dumbledore didn't want to seem to feed them yet. He stood and looked like he was about to make a speech. Harry reluctantly gave the man his attention. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

Harry noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes, and as he looked around the hall, his eyes lingering on Harry for a moment longer than the rest, Harry could swear he saw disappointment and possibly something else flash in his eyes. He couldn't name what else it might be. He would have said fear, but what did an old man and the headmaster of a school of magic have to fear from an eleven year old? Nothing, right? So it couldn't be fear. He suddenly opened his mouth to speak, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

"Welcome!" He said. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down and everyone clapped except most of the Slytherin table, Harry and Draco included. Harry was snickering madly into his hand.

"Is he…a bit mad?" Harry asked, still snickering.

"Well yeah. I told you he was a muggle lover, didn't I? This just proves that he should be in St. Mungo's and not the head of a school." Draco said, snickering as well.

"St. Mungo's?" Harry asked, his snickering almost dead, though he was still smirking.

"Blimey. I keep forgetting you're still new to this. It's where wizards go when they're severly injured or they need mental help. Albus Dumbledore is in serious denial." Draco said, his own laughter dying down as well.

"Ah." Was all Harry could say. He supposed he should have realized, but somehow he didn't think about wizards having their own hospitals. As it turned out, he didn't have to say much. The food had just appeared and he was famished. He filled his plate a bit with almost everything on the table and began to eat. As the evening went on, a horribly blood stained ghost came to hover right next to Draco, who looked none too pleased about it. Draco explained that this was the Bloody Baron. The Slytherin ghost.

'So, each house has a ghost. Odd, but I guess they're effective as mascots.' Harry thought, snickering to himself. Just when he felt as if he were full to the bursting point, the food disappeared, leaving the plates and goblets as sparkling clean as before the food was served. A moment later the desserts appeared. Harry, though he was full, took one treacle tart, and he thought it was just about the best thing he had ever tasted. He idly listened to the talk at the Slytherin table, smirking as Draco started bragging about his home life and his parents. Harry, barely paying attention, glanced back up at the head table. Most of the teachers were in conversation, but the dark haired man he had noticed earlier that Professor Quirell was talking to was studying him, and Professor Quirell was still trying to make polite conversation, as it turned out. He decided to ask Draco about him, to see if he could find out anything about the man. He waited until there was a pause in the conversation and he spoke up.

"Draco, who is that man up there that Professor Quirell is trying to talk to?" Harry asked, absently rubbing his scar again as he was reminded of the sharp pain that had shot through it earlier.

"You already know Quirell? Idiot, that one. Anyway, the man next to him is Professor Snape. He's our head of House. He teaches potions here." Draco said, looking from Professor Snape to Harry and back again. "Seems he's taken some kind of interest in you. I'd watch out. Professor Snape can be a nasty one if you get on his bad side." Draco said, snickering.

"How do you know so much about him?" Harry asked, turning back to Draco.

"He's my godfather. He used to come around every summer, but he hasn't been around at all this year. I wrote him to find out what was wrong, but when he wrote back he avoided the question. I'm going to ask him when I get the chance though. He can't ignore me face to face." Draco said confidently, turning back to his desert and conversation. Harry glanced at the man once more before he decided to at least pretend to eat desert and listen to the Slytherin conversations until the feast was over with. After about twenty more minutes of waiting, the desserts finally disappeared as well, and Harry noticed some Slytherins looking around so he did as well. He saw that Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. The hall, which had been previously filled with conversation, fell silent.

"Ahem. Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember this as well." Dumbledore's eyes turned for a fraction of a second toward the twin redheads at the Gryffindor table.

'Ah, so they're trouble makers.' Harry thought, looking at the twins for a second too before turning back to face Dumbledore.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

"Yeah, like we'd listen. Some of these idiots deserve to be hexed." Draco muttered, and Harry snickered. Dumbledore continued on, not hearing the muttering.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry snickered with Draco, looking over at the twin redheads whose heads were together conspiratorially. Harry hoped that they tried to go up there and got caught so the Gryffindorks would be behind in points before the term really began. Not that they needed help with that, from what Draco had told Harry.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers had forced smiles, and Professor Snape had altogether abandoned the attempt when the best he could manage was a grimace. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

The school bellowed together:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everyone finished the song at different times, most of the Slytherins, including Professor Snape, refusing to sing at all. At last, much to Harry's amusement, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" Dumbledore said, waving toward the doors leading out of the Great Hall. Most of the Great Hall was chaos, but the Slytherins organized themselves and the prefects led them down to the dungeons. When they reached what appeared to be a dead end, a prefect whispered something to the wall, and it slid away, revealing a hole through which they climbed. When they were all inside, Harry looked around. The common room was huge. It was decorated by a few fireplaces, in front of which were comfortable looking chairs and couches. All in Slytherin green and accented with silver, of course.

The prefects gathered everyone quickly and gave them the password, which was 'Salazar's children' and explained the rules. After that, they were sent to bed. Most were too tired to speak, and Harry realized that he too was extremely tired. The trip must have taken more out of him than he had realized. With a yawn and a muttered goodnight to Draco who had bunked right next to him, he fell asleep.

Ch. End


	3. Meeting the Potions Master

**Ch. 3: Meeting the Potions Master**

Harry woke up, disoriented. Looking around, he realized he wasn't in his horrible cupboard, but somewhere else entirely. Then, it all came rushing back to him and he fought back the urge to thank whatever gods were out there that it wasn't all a dream. He yawned and looked to the side to see Draco and the other two were still sleeping. He got up quietly and gathered a new pair of robes, a shirt, and a pair of trousers. Then he grabbed a pair of worn out socks and his trainers and headed out to the Slytherin toilets, setting his things down and showering before getting ready for his first class. By the time he got back to the dorm, everyone was waking up. Draco looked at him sleepily and asked where he'd been and Harry told him. Draco scoffed at the idea of getting up so early, but said nothing as he went about getting ready for his own shower.

When the other three were dressed and ready, they all grabbed their school bags and went down to breakfast. Harry chose to focus on talking to Draco in between bites of his breakfast while pointedly ignoring stares and whispers from the other students. He hated the attention, and his skills over the years of verbal abuse from the Dursleys were perfectly honed to allow him to ignore the things around him and focus on one thing. He had dealt with much worse, so he knew he could deal with it. Most insults didn't affect him anymore, because he had unconsciously unattached himself from the anger he felt at hurtful words, making it all the easier to ignore them, and not let the insulter know that they had gotten to him.

He had learned early on that if he showed anger or sadness in response to the insults, he was giving them what they wanted. This technique had worked especially well on his cousin Dudley, who had the approximate attention span of a thinly sliced piece of lunch meat. After a while, Dudley would get bored and wander away, letting Harry escape the situation fairly easily. With his uncle, he had to take a slightly different approach. He had to at least respond to some of the questions the man posed, or else it could turn ugly. He'd rather not be on the man's bad side, but seeing as he was at school at the moment, the first technique was the best approach. Children and teens, as Harry knew, got bored after a while if he didn't respond to the insults, so he figured it might work equally well with this situation.

Even though in this situation, the talk was about him and not directed at him, as long as he didn't do anything to make himself stand out and stuck to his studies, he could ignore them for the most part. He wanted to ask Draco for help, because his name alone, along with his body guards (a.k.a. Vince and Greg), would bring intimidation in as a factor and decrease rumors and whispering around him, but he loathed being indebted to anyone, even if the would-be debtor was quickly becoming a friend. He shook his head. He was putting too much thought into it. It was really just a simple process of ignoring the nonsense around him while allowing just enough of his attention to catch any potentially important information. So, he would use more of the approach he used with his uncle on this one. He almost smiled at the thought.

Draco brought him out of his thoughts by once again including him in the conversation, which happened to be about Quidditch. He speculated which positions each of the four would be good in, though it was obvious by how he said it that Vince and Greg would mostly only be good in the position of beater. He also commented that by Harry's size, he could do well as a seeker because he would most likely be smaller than the opposing seeker, making him a little faster. Of course, this depended on the broom of course too. Once the subject of brooms was up in the air though, Draco held on to it for the rest of breakfast and even down the hall on the way to their first class, Transfiguration, with the Ravenclaws. He practically sang the praises of the Nimbus 2000, his face glowing as he spoke.

As they took their seats, Harry noticed a cat sitting on the desk in the front of the class. He wondered idly what it was doing there, but said nothing. It really didn't seem important at the time, so he thought nothing of it. As Draco chatted away, Harry took out his Transfiguration book and started reading the first chapter while waiting for the teacher to show up. He sighed and tuned the blonde out so he could actually absorb the information. When Draco finally noticed he wasn't listening, he was annoyed but followed suit and took his book out as well. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Draco was almost ten chapters in.

'Great. If he's read that far in I really am behind.' Harry thought unhappily, but kept reading. It wasn't until someone mentioned the absence of the teacher that he looked up again. He noticed the cat crouching, ready to pounce off the desk. In one fluid movement, she jumped off the desk and transformed into the shape of a human in midair before landing gracefully on her feet. There at the front of the class stood Professor McGonagall. Many students clapped and Harry allowed himself a small smile. That was another thing he just learned about the wizarding world. He wondered if they would ever learn how to transform into animals. It looked like it could be great fun. He noticed however, that she was not smiling. She looked as stern as ever, and it was with this expression that she started addressing the class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Professor McGonagall said, and with a wave of her wand she changed her desk into a pig, and with another she changed it back. The class was very impressed, but Harry realized that it was probably more difficult than she made it look. As if to prove him right, she explained that it would be quite a while before they could do something nearly that difficult. After that, she told them to take out their parchment, quills, and ink to take notes and she started on her lecture. While they took notes, she explained the basic principle and theory of transfiguration.

When she was done with the lecture, she told them to put their things away, set their notes off to the side to dry, and then she gave them each a matchstick. She explained that they were going to attempt to transfigure their matchsticks into needles, gave them the incantation, and set them to work. By the end of the lesson, a few Slytherins, including Harry and Draco, had managed to turn their matchstick, and a few more Ravenclaws had managed to turn theirs. Some others had made a difference at least, but had not fully completed the transfiguration. Harry was pleased with himself as he looked at his needle. He was even more pleased, and embarrassed, when McGonagall came by and praised him, saying that he might even turn out to be as talented in Transfiguration as his father was.

The Slytherins and Ravenclaws each earned 5 points for every matchstick that was successfully transfigured, giving the Slytherins 15 points and the Ravenclaws 20. After the class was dismissed, they all collected their notes while she collected the matchsticks and needles with a wave of her wand. As Harry and Draco left the class, Harry was almost beaming. Maybe he wouldn't be completely horrible in magic. His happy feeling persisted until they made their way down to the greenhouses and realized that they had this class with the Gryffindors. As usual, they would be more of an annoyance than anyone, but he would deal with it. Maybe he could work next to Granger and get to know her a bit better. With this thought in mind, Harry made his way a bit more happily to the greenhouses, Draco right beside him and Vince and Greg behind them.

He looked around for the Gryffindor girl and noted that the table to her left was indeed open, so he went to it, Draco filling in to his left and Vince and Greg taking a table across from them. Draco scowled at Harry, but he ignored it as he tried to strike up a conversation with the girl. He was happy when she talked back without disdain in her voice. They chatted about their first classes and what they had learned. Granger gushed happily as she told him about Charms class and how she was the first one to make her feather float. Harry smiled and congratulated her, telling her about Transfiguration and what they had had to do. She beamed at him when he told her how he and Draco had successfully transfigured their matchsticks, and confessed that she hoped she could do the same. She said that she had pre-read most of her books for her classes, wanting to be prepared for whatever they may do. Harry was impressed, but he didn't comment on it. He would have done the same, given the choice.

Of course he hadn't been, and that started to bring up feelings of resentment toward his relatives, but he let none of this show on his face as the conversation continued. Finally, after a few minutes, class started. They quickly found out that they would not be doing any magic today, but learning about different herbs, plants and fungi and what they could do. They first learned what properties each plant had, and most people, including Harry, Draco, and Granger, had the sense to get out parchment, quills, and ink, and taking notes. After they learned the properties of each plant, they learned what plants would be best to make healing potions, which would be best to make poisons, and which would be best to make helpful potions that weren't necessarily medical (a.k.a. Wolfsbane, calming draughts, dreamless sleep, ect.).

After setting aside their notes, the class was charged with learning how to take care of specific plants. What they needed to survive, how much sunlight or lack of they needed, how much they needed to be watered, and what kind of environment was best for them. Harry was having so much fun, he almost forgot he was in school. When class ended, he happily rolled up his notes and put them in his bag, ignoring another glare from Draco as he asked Granger if she wanted to walk back up to the castle with them. She happily agreed, staying to the left side of Harry and pointedly away from Draco. He was even happier when she told him he could call her by her first name. After they got back into the castle, she invited him to go study with her in the library. He agreed and asked if Draco could come too.

She said yes, though she did so without much enthusiasm, and Draco intervened before he could be pulled into something that would be unpleasant for not only him, but Hermione too.

"Sorry, Harry. I have to go talk to Professor Snape. I'll meet you back in the common room later, okay?" he asked, and when Harry nodded, he took off with Vince and Greg while Harry made his way to the library with Hermione, secretly grateful that Draco hadn't said anything out loud about him hanging out with a muggle-born. Harry hadn't even noticed Professor Snape coming out of a classroom behind them as they passed and staring at him and Hermione for a moment as they talked and laughed together before smiling a bit before making his way down the hallway in the opposite direction. If Harry would have noticed, he would have thought it to be the end of the world. The surly Potions Master smiling? No one would believe him even if he had seen it.

The rest of the week passed quickly on like this, and very soon it was Friday, and Harry had had plenty of time to read ahead on all of his books now. He had taken every spare moment he had reading his books, and Hermione had let him in lieu of studying together once he confessed that he hadn't been able to read ahead over the summer and he really wanted to. He didn't explain why he hadn't been able to, and she didn't press when she asked and didn't get a real answer. Therefore, he still went to the library together, and he read their class books, while she read other books that she was interested when they had spare time. Draco had come with him a few times, for which he was grateful, but he never really spoke to Hermione, and vice versa. Now that it was Friday, Harry was excited. He had been looking forward to Potions. He wanted to know how good he could be in the class.

He had surprised himself throughout the week by doing well in all his classes, and the fact that he now had time to read ahead only helped him. He retained information well, so everything he read stuck in his mind. Now, he was making his way down to the dungeons from breakfast with Draco on his right and Vince and Greg behind them as usual. He couldn't hide his smile, and when Draco questioned him about it, he gave him a vague answer because he didn't want the blonde to know that he was happy about school itself. Draco would never understand the fact that he was happy because he could do well in his classes and not be punished for it. He wouldn't understand Harry's almost desperate need to learn as much about the wizarding world as possible so that maybe he could get away from the Dursleys sooner rather than later.

As they reached the classroom, Harry and Draco sat together as usual, with Vince and Greg sitting at the table to their right. Harry was almost surprised when Hermione came to sit at the table to his left with a girl Harry didn't recognize. Harry, in his excitement, had forgotten that they had this class with the Gryffindors. Harry smiled over at her, and though she smiled back, the other girl looked disdainfully at Harry, though there was some hidden interest there too. The class was full of whispers all around, but silence fell instantly as Professor Snape entered the room. Everyone, it seemed, was now familiar with his reputation, and no one wanted to make the man angry. As he started roll call, he paused on Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new…_celebrity_."

Some of the Gryffindors snickered and though Harry kept any emotion from his face, he couldn't help the faint blush of embarrassment that crossed his features. He hated being called out on his celebrity status. The Charms professor had done it too, though Harry knew by the way the dark man sounded that this would be a lot more unpleasant. He expected the man to say something else, most likely something humiliating, but when he moved on, Harry almost sighed out loud. He didn't want any more attention. Why couldn't people understand that?

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. He had a certain gift of keeping a class silent without effort, much like Professor McGonagall, if Harry recalled. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

'Not a very supportive Professor, is he?' Harry thought, almost rolling his eyes.

"Potter!" the Professor snapped suddenly.

'Here we go.' Harry thought with a barely audible sigh. Somehow, he knew the man hadn't finished with him.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" he asked, and by his look, Harry knew he expected him not to know the answer. Harry, however, was willing to break that expectation.

"It would make a powerful sleeping potion called the Draught of Living Death, sir." Harry answered, and he could tell by the sour look on the man's face that was quickly covered up that he had been right. The second question was snapped at him.

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" The Professor asked, and once again Harry answered.

"In the stomach of a goat, sir. In addition, it will save one from most poisons." Harry answered, and he could tell by the way the Professor's lips curled up in a sneer that the man was even more annoyed with him, but he wouldn't answer him incorrectly just because the teacher was getting annoyed. The third question was filled with so much disdain that it was almost palpable in the air.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" the Professor asked, and Harry almost smiled at the teacher's annoyance as he answered.

"There is no difference, sir. They are the same plant, also known as aconite." Harry answered, and a look of cold fury which was quickly covered greeted him on his Professor's face. With a sneer, the man turned his gaze away from him, now addressing the whole class.

"Well, why aren't you all copying this down?" he snapped, and with a rummaging of parchment and quills, everyone set to copying down the information. After that, he had them pair up to brew a simple potion to cure boils. As he worked with Draco, the blonde gave him certain pointers that weren't in the book, like remembering to clean off his knife after each use so the juices from certain potions ingredients didn't interact with one another, and other small things of that nature. Harry noticed that the blonde was already very good at it, and so as he worked alongside him quietly for the whole class, listening to his suggestions and adding things to the potion as needed while Draco stirred. Even with the interruption of Neville melting his cauldron, Draco kept at it.

Harry picked up his and Draco's things and picked up his feet, as did Draco, as the volatile mess spilled across the stone floor. He listened with a detached interest and a pang of sympathy for Neville as he was insulted by Professor Snape and sent to the infirmary with his partner, the potion having spilled all over him. The Professor vanished the mess with a wave of his wand, and glared around the class, daring anyone else to do the same thing. Now, at least, the whole class knew not to add the porcupine quills to a boil cure potion without taking it off the fire. The rest of the class passed without incident. Harry and Draco's potion was the only perfect one of the lot, and Harry knew it was only because of Draco's talent. It wasn't that he couldn't follow directions, but Draco knew things to make brewing easier that weren't even in the book.

Even as the Professor looked at their potion and grudgingly pronounced it perfect, they didn't get any points, and Harry figured he knew why. For some reason or another, Professor Snape really hated him. He didn't know why he did, but Harry could tell. He saw the same look on the faces of his relatives, and they told him almost constantly how much they hated him. Not that Harry really cared much. It was just one more person who couldn't stand him and had no reason for it. He didn't let it faze him as he left the class, not paying attention and missing the fact that Draco hadn't come out the door with him, though he had waved Greg and Vince out the door and they followed Harry as usual. When they finally arrived at the Great Hall for lunch and sat down, Harry noticed that Draco wasn't with them and asked the two about it.

"He had to stay after class to talk to Professor Snape. Said he'd meet us here." Vince grunted, and they took their usual seats, leaving a space next to Harry for Draco when he arrived. Harry frowned. He wanted to suggest that they go back for him, but he apparently _had_ said he would meet them here. Harry shrugged. Oh well. He would wait. It wasn't like the man would be laying into Draco too badly. He was his godfather, after all. Then again, he didn't know the man well enough to make that judgment either. It wasn't like it was his problem, really. He wasn't going to get along with the Professor even if he did become close friends with Draco, so there wasn't any point in dwelling on it. If he ignored it, the man would eventually become bored of hating him and he might just leave him alone. Harry waited for quite a while, but Draco didn't show up until lunch was halfway over, and he wouldn't say what he had talked with the Professor about.

After lunch, they went down to the greenhouses out on the grounds to have their Herbology class with the Ravenclaws. Harry didn't mind the Ravenclaws as much as the other two houses, because most of them were too preoccupied with their work, or other things, to gossip about him too much. He did occasionally hear snippets of conversation that included him in the halls when they passed, but he didn't get it from them nearly as much as the other houses. In fact, the only time he never heard annoying people whispering about him was when he met with Hermione in the library. Even if there were other students in there, they were mostly Ravenclaws or other Slytherins, and Madam Pince didn't like talking in her library. After Herbology was over, Harry excused himself from the other tree to go read in the library once again with Hermione.

They had already made the plans before classes had started today, and now that classes were over he went happily to the one place he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. He liked studying with Hermione because she took it as seriously as he did and she wasn't annoying. Another plus was that she never brought up the fact that he was the boy-who-lived. He had been afraid at first that she would, and that she would start asking him the same stupid questions that everyone else did, but that fear was quickly quelled when she never brought up the subject throughout the whole time they studied together. In fact, the only time they talked was once the study sessions were over, or if she wanted to review the work they'd been assigned. This time, after they left the library, she brought up something that piqued his interest. Apparently, someone had tried to rob Gringotts, the wizard bank.

As Harry recalled, there was a warning right above the doors that clearly warned against such a thing. He asked to see the article, and she paused to take it out of her bag. She handed it to him after she did, and they continued walking as he started to read. After he was done with it, something stuck out in his mind. The date of the attempted robbery was his birthday. The break-in must have happened just after they left. He thought to bring this up to Hermione, but thought better of it. He handed the paper back to her, thinking intensely. A certain sentence came back to him. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day._ Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for? He decided to write a quick reminder for himself to ask Hagrid about the vault he had emptied that day and stuck it in his potions book.

Harry and Hermione parted ways halfway between their common rooms, heading back by themselves. Harry was still preoccupied once he got back to the common room, therefore he didn't notice Draco talking to him until he had tapped Harry on the shoulder. When the blonde finally got his attention, he looked extremely annoyed. Harry smirked.

'Apparently he's not used to being ignored. I wonder how far I could push him with this?' Harry thought, amused with the situation. He decided not to push him _just_ yet. He might try it once he knew he had something on the blonde, or until he was irreplaceable. Until then he would stay on his good side. He was smart enough to know he was nothing to the blonde right now. The only reason he had started talking to him was because of his celebrity status, and while he hated that fact, he wasn't going to shun his only friend. Still smirking, he decided to listen to what the blonde had to say.

"I was _saying_ we start flying lessons next Thursday! It's going to be wicked! The only bad thing is the fact that we have them with the Gryffindorks." Draco said, snickering at the nickname.

"We have at least a class a day with them, Draco." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, I realize this Harry. What _you_ don't seem to realize is that something is _bound_ to happen next week. I mean really, the Gryffindorks on broomsticks is just a disaster waiting to happen. Especially with Longbottom there." Draco said, snickering. Harry laughed too because he knew the blonde was right. Longbottom was a walking disaster. Anywhere he went, chaos followed.

"Point taken. At least we have enough time to make out our wills before we go. We have about a week. Anything you want to bequeath to anyone, Draco?" Harry joked, grabbing a piece of parchment out of his bag and handing it to Draco.

"Very funny Harry. Let's just do our homework." Draco said, sitting down and taking his homework out of his bag.

"Mine's already done. I did it in the library with Hermione." Harry said, sitting down anyway and taking out his potions book. He was going to finish it before his next potions class, so Professor Snape would have nothing to complain about.

"Ugh, do you really have to spend so much time with a Gryffindork? Especially Granger?" Draco asked, giving Harry a pained look.

"She's my friend Draco." Harry said firmly, then added, "And that reminds me. You owe me ten galleons. You bet Hermione would go to Ravenclaw and she ended up in Gryffindor."

Draco sighed and reached into his bag, taking out a huge sack that jingled. He opened it, put ten galleons on the table, and put it back in his bag.

"Here." he said, handing the money to Harry. He grinned and pocketed it. Then, he shook his head and decided to ask his friend what he was wondering.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to carry so much money around, Draco?" Harry asked, wondering why the blonde needed that much with him in the first place. Draco looked at him incredulously.

"Harry, do you really think anyone would steal from me? From a Malfoy?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised.

"It could happen. If _I_ were you I'd keep it in my trunk and put a locking charm on it." Harry said, shrugging. Draco studied Harry for a minute, and Harry decided to ask him something that had been bothering him all week. He didn't care if it caused a rift between them because he was tired of Draco's attitude toward Hermione.

"Draco…" Harry started, making sure he had the blonde's attention before continuing. "Why don't you like me hanging out with Hermione? Do you think it's making you look bad? Hanging out with a half-blood that likes to hang out with a muggle-born Gryffindor? Is that your problem?" Harry asked, looking up to see the blonde's reaction. Draco looked stunned that anyone would talk to him like that. He retaliated almost automatically.

"Maybe that _is_ my problem, Potter. If you want to continue hanging around me, you'll stop talking to a Mudblood and hang out with acceptable people." Draco said, annoyed that Harry was disagreeing with him.

"Don't _call_ her a Mudblood, _Malfoy_! I don't care who you _do_ or _do not_ find acceptable! I will associate with whomever I wish. Don't forget that _you_ approached _me_, not the other way around." Harry hissed, shoving his book in his bag and picking it up before heading for the common room exit. He left before Draco could say anything else, heading for the library where he knew he wouldn't be bothered. He didn't know why he was so angry. Usually, he could let things just slide off him. He hadn't felt real anger in a long time, so it was a jarring experience for him. He tried to calm himself as he walked, taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly, but the anger wouldn't fade and he didn't know why. Insults meant nothing to him, and Draco hadn't even really insulted him. He had insulted Hermione. An odd thought hit him. He was angry over Draco insulting someone else.

Did that mean he cared for Hermione? He had studied with her, but had she really gotten close enough to him to be his friend? He didn't even know if she considered him a friend or not, but he wouldn't put up with the blonde insulting her.

'Ha, so I guess I really did just lose my first friend, didn't I? Well, whatever. I don't need friends then.' Harry thought bitterly as he made his way down the corridor. He couldn't keep the anger he felt from showing on his face. Usually, he was a master at hiding his emotions, but he couldn't seem to think clearly at the moment. As he reached the library, he sat and tried to read his potions book, but he kept reading the same paragraph over and over until he finally gave up. He put his book away and clasped his hands together to keep them from shaking from his persistent anger, but that didn't stop it entirely. He took a few deep breaths, still attempting to calm himself, but it helped very little. He was able to hide his anger once again, and look calm at least, but that didn't stop the turmoil within him.

He wanted to hide out in the library until curfew, but Dinner was fast approaching and he was hungry. It didn't matter. He'd just come back after he ate, and maybe then he'd be calm enough to study. With a sigh, he picked up his bag and headed for the Great Hall alone.

Ch. End


	4. Weasley the Weasel

**Ch. 4: Weasley the Weasel**

Harry was on his way to the Great Hall when he literally almost ran into a group of Gryffindors. As he stopped to let them pass, he heard a scathing voice from across the hall.

"What's wrong, Potter? Where's your little gang? I thought you'd be too afraid to walk around without them." Weasley said, and the rest of the small group of Gryffindors stopped and waited for his reply. Harry, however, wouldn't grace them with a response. He walked past Weasley and into the Great Hall, ignoring the stares and whispers he usually got, along with anyone else who might have tried to associate with him. He sat by himself at the end of the Slytherin table, setting his bag down by his feet calmly as he waited for dinner to start. As the Great Hall filled up, he looked straight ahead, not caring who arrived or where they sat. He calmly waited for about twenty minutes, and in that time the Hall had filled greatly and the level of noise had increased every five minutes with each small group that arrived together. When the food finally appeared, he loaded his plate and ate as fast as he could without choking or looking like a slob.

When he was done, he picked up his bag and hurried back out of the Great Hall, ignoring everyone as he made his way back to the library. His anger had calmed down considerably, but he still wouldn't talk to Draco. He wouldn't talk to anyone unless Hermione felt like talking. He made his way down the corridors, ignoring everyone he passed until he reached the library. Once there, he sat down and read, ignoring the rest of the world until Madam Pince tapped him on the shoulder and told him it was fifteen minutes until curfew and the library was closing. He supposed she was probably nice to him because he always respected the books and he never talked much in the library. He thanked her and gathered his things, putting them in his bag and making his way out of the library and back to his common room, though he was loath to see Draco again so soon.

As he made his way toward the dungeons, ignoring anyone who came close to him, he suddenly found himself against a stone wall with a wand pressed to his throat.

"Potter! You think you're too good to talk to me? What's your problem? Are you too famous to associate with normal people? Huh?" Weasley taunted, holding him against the wall while two other Gryffindors, Finnigan and Thomas if he remembered correctly, stood back looking satisfied with themselves.

"Look, Weasley. I don't even want my fame, for one. Why the bloody hell would I want to be famous for my parents dying? The fact is, I don't feel like talking to you because you're a bloody prat and a Gryffindor to boot. I've never done anything to you, so why do you feel the need to mess with me?" Harry asked bitingly, not feeling threatened in the least by the idiot holding him against the wall.

"Well, for one, you're a bloody Slytherin, and that's reason enough. Aren't you supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world? Why the hell are you a Slytherin if you really are the boy-who-lived?" Weasley asked, glaring at Harry.

"First of all, Weasley, being the boy who lived has nothing to do with House placement. I'm in Slytherin because I have many more Slytherin qualities than any other House and I told the hat I wanted to be placed in Slytherin. The hat considered me for both Ravenclaw and Slytherin and I made my choice. Frankly, I don't see how being the boy-who-lived affects any of this. Slytherins are _not_ all evil, contrary to what _some_ people may believe. Just because we are in the same House that the Dark Lord was in, does _not_ mean we are, nor do we want to be like him. The reason I failed to answer you earlier was _not_ because I think I am better than anyone. I refuse to let someone bait me into fighting, and you are no different. You were just trying to start something with me Weasley, and I want to be left alone." Harry said, returning his glare.

He almost thought that Weasley was at a loss for words, but it seemed that the redhead wouldn't be deterred.

"You know, Potter. It should seem like since you're the great hero of light, you should be in Gryffindor. Why are you in the opposing House if you're supposed to be a hero?" Weasley asked, sniffing with disdain at the thought of being any nearer to a Slytherin than he needed to be.

"Because I have little to no Gryffindor qualities, I suppose. I had no desire to be in any specific house, and since a friend of mine happened to go to Slytherin, and it appeared that I did have some influence over what the hat chose, I asked to be placed in Slytherin as well. The fact is, as Slytherins, we stick together. We have our priorities in order and we work for what we get. We don't expect people to give us anything, because we know they won't. Seeing how others treat us, and knowing even a little of what my Housemates or their parents have been through, I don't blame them for supporting Voldemort." Harry said softly, and the three Gryffindors flinched. Harry continued speaking as if he didn't notice.

"What he could offer…power, protection, and freedom. Anyone in a horrible situation they had no control over would want what he offered. I hate him for killing my parents, don't get me wrong, and I would never support what he did. I only mean that for some of his supporters, I think it was their only option left at that point. Some people couldn't help it." Harry said softly, not looking at the Gryffindors.

"What, so you think it's okay, what they did? They killed innocent people, Potter! Or have you forgotten!" Weasley snarled, his glare renewed as he got over the shock of what Harry had said. Harry felt something stir in him along the lines of a deep rage that immediately started to spiral out of control within him. His face twisted with it, and with this rage filling his voice and spiraling around him in magic energies, he spoke.

"You know nothing of which you speak, Weasley. I had to watch a mad man kill my parents. I had to sit, as a helpless, innocent child, as he turned his wand on me. Do not think for a _second_ that had I had a choice, I would have survived. Do you think I wanted to live all these years knowing my parents were dead? Not even knowing how they died. Just the fact that they weren't there and never would be. It's mortal agony, Weasley. Something I'm sure you would know nothing about. Don't speak to me about what they have done. I have heard the stories and I can assure you, that given the chance to confront the killer, I would be capable of _much_ worse, and I would be _far_ too willing to do it. I have the power and I have the will. The only thing missing from this pretty little scenario is the Dark Lord, and he will get his when he returns." Harry said in a deadly hiss, his rage spilling from him like water from a broken main.

The three Gryffindors were stricken, and Weasley's wand was no longer pressed to his throat. Harry shoved him away, still seething, and pointed his wand at his face.

"I suggest you three leave and let me be on my way. I do _not_ know what I am capable of at the moment, but I can assure you I am only too willing to find out. Test me, Weasley. I dare you." Harry said in a dangerously low voice, and without argument, the three Gryffindors left, much to Harry's surprise. He must have been more intimidating than he thought. He tried to calm his rage, but found that it kept spilling from him, combined with his magic energy, and creating a palpable sense of anger around him. He couldn't calm it, and so he put his wand away. He wasn't going to be docked points or given detention if he got angry enough to hex anyone he might come across in the corridors.

With a sigh and a snort, he started to make his way back to his common room, hoping to calm himself before he got there, lest he snap on one of his Housemates and do something he would regret. Unbeknownst to him, a man in the corner had watched the whole confrontation, only waiting to step in if things looked like they were going to get violent. He was more shaken than he had been in ten years. Who knew that Potter had that kind of raw power, let alone that mentality. It was uncomfortably dark and out of character for the whelp, and he needed to report it, if only to prevent an inevitable disaster. It would not do to have the 'Hero of Light' as Weasley had so ignorantly called him, become just the opposite of that. The way he spoke, though. It was as if he knew what that helplessness felt like, as if he had experienced it himself. He sighed. Of course the whelp didn't know. He was the savior of the wizarding world, and the epitome of light. He couldn't know what it felt like to be so trapped. It was ridiculous, in fact. The man shook his head.

He was thinking too much. He just needed to report this incident and be done with it. He couldn't afford to try to curb this disaster on his own. He needed help, of the most powerful variety, and he would surely have it. With a sigh, he stalked off down the corridor, going to do what he knew he must.

When Harry got back to the common room, he whispered the password to the stone wall and nothing happened.

'Bloody fantastic. Must've changed today.' Harry thought, settling himself outside the common room in case anyone decided to open it and sneak out, which they most likely would eventually. He sighed and started to breathe deeply, but he couldn't seem to calm himself. His rage was ever present, and it wouldn't abate. He tried for three hours before someone finally opened the door and he quickly got up to ask them the password and get into the common room. It was one of the older years that Harry didn't recognize. The teen was startled to see him, but he gave him the password anyway and let him into the common room. The password this time was 'Pure Blood'. Harry smiled at that. He should've guessed. A lot of the Slytherins really were alike. He decided to sit in one of the chairs rather than going up to bed, and for a long time, he just stared at the fireplace.

When he finally dozed off, he only got a few hours of sleep before he was disturbed in the common room. By the time he woke up his rage had mercifully dissipated, and he was able to hurry up to the dorm and grab his things for his shower, much to the surprised looks of his dorm mates. He spoke to no one and ignored them if they did speak to him as he gathered his clothes and bag and hurried down to the shower. This time, since he hadn't woken up earlier, he had to shower with some of the other Slytherins but he hurried through it and got dressed, still ignoring those around him. It was still about an hour before breakfast so he decided to take refuge in the library once again. As he walked, he noticed in particular that Gryffindors were giving him a wide berth, and that had almost made him smile. So, despite his stature, he could be intimidating if he put a little power and rage behind it.

He studied in the library until five minutes before breakfast, and then he made his way to the Great Hall. As he walked down the corridors, he saw Draco but he ignored him and walked past him, stalking through a group of Gryffindors and enjoying the fact that they scattered as soon as they saw it was him. They all but ran into the Great Hall, and as Harry made his way to the Slytherin table, he felt more than a few stares on his back. With a smirk, he sat down and waited for the food to show up. To his surprise, Draco, Blaise, Vince, and Greg sat around him, and Draco started to speak.

"Potter, do you mind telling me why all the Gryffindors are scared of you? It's hilarious, mind you, but why are they terrified to be in the same corridor as you?" Draco asked, the amusement and curiosity evident in his voice. Harry decided to humor them with at least a grain of the truth.

"They've just learned their place, that's all. They're finally showing me the respect I deserve." Harry said, and the rest of the Slytherins just stared at him.

"But, what did you actually do?" Blaise asked before anyone else could. At this, Harry smiled, and it was one which did not fit his face at all.

"It's a secret." He said, and he wouldn't answer any more questions. Not that they asked many more. They were all weirded out by his behavior. He ate breakfast quickly, ignoring the glances of his year mates, and when he was done, he grabbed his bag and headed for the library again with a smirk that was so unlike himself on his face, glaring at a few Gryffindors who dared pass him and chuckling as they jumped away from him and walked quickly in the other direction. He didn't notice the stares of the teachers as he passed out of the Great Hall, because he hadn't looked up at the staff table once. He never had any reason to. He made his way to the library, and as he sat there and finished his potions book, starting on another class book, he wondered idly what kind of spells he could get out of the books in the restricted section.

He would have to think of a way to get access to it. He knew you needed a teacher's note to take a book out, so he would have to contemplate which teacher to ask. Of course, if they saw the titles of any books he might want to take out, he was willing to bet they wouldn't let him take them out, let alone read them. Of course they didn't want first years learning advanced spells, let alone curses. He just wanted to make sure he was ready the next time Weasley confronted him, because he knew there would be a next time. He wanted his pick of curses so he could enjoy the effect at least for a little while before he was caught by a teacher. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he started as the same group who accosted him at breakfast came to sit at his table in the library.

"Look, Potter. Just tell me what you did. You can't ignore me forever. I'm a Malfoy and I always get what I want. You need to learn some respect or else." Draco said with confidence, gesturing at Vince and Greg. The rage started to build inside him once again, and he stood up, though he carefully kept it from his face this time. That did not, however, keep it from entering his voice, nor did he try to stop it as he started to speak, his rage spiraling around him with his magic once again.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, Malfoy. Do _not_ threaten me. You _will_ regret it. Maybe it's _you_ that needs to learn respect, or are you incapable of feeling respect for a lowly half-blood? If that's the case, I can _always_ teach you." Harry said in a deadly hiss, pulling out his wand though he pointed it and no one.

"Y-yeah right Potter. You don't even know any curses yet." Draco said, but he sounded unsure of himself, his voice quivering a bit.

"Aw, did I scare the little pureblood? Do you really want to know what I did? Do you really want to know what happened?" Harry purred, and smiled at the timid nod the blonde gave him. "All I did was this. This is my anger, mixing with my power. Gryffindors are _so_ easy to scare." Harry told him with a smirk, and the look on Draco's face was priceless as he tried to act like he wasn't scared out of his wits. He forced a laugh and spoke.

"Ha, nice Potter. I bet they went running, didn't they?" He asked, with a forced smirk.

"After I threatened them a bit." Harry said with a smile, fingering his wand lovingly for the affect.

"Damn Potter. People are going to be saying you're the next Dark Lord once this spreads." Blaise said, looking impressed. Harry just smiled. That comment would have pissed him off yesterday, but today, for some reason, he liked the sound of it. He didn't know what was getting into him.

"Good. Maybe they'll stay out of my way then, like good little boys and girls." He purred, enjoying the effect he was having on his peers. He was going to speak again but a voice rang across the library.

"Potter! Come, now!" Professor Snape said, and he looked almost livid. Feeling not at all intimidated, he picked up his bag and spoke in a mocking voice.

"Coming professor." And with that he smirked at the other boys looks. They clearly thought he had a death wish. As he got into the corridor, he looked up at his professor and spoke with a smirk. "Now, what is it you wanted from me, sir?" he asked politely, though still wearing the smirk.

"Follow me." Professor Snape said, sweeping away across the corridor. Harry followed at a lazy pace, but soon he had to jog to keep up. He didn't know where they were going, and he didn't really care. By this time, his power and his rage were dissipating once again, and far more quickly than they had last time. He was once again detached from the world, so to speak. He still remembered the pleasure he had felt earlier at the idea that people were scared of him, and it made him shiver. Was he really thinking like that? Why? He had acted totally unlike himself all day so far, and he felt himself sliding in and out of that persona as he walked down the corridor, and it was staring to make him inexplicably dizzy. He stopped walking as it became too much for him and sagged against the stone wall.

A few seconds later, after Professor Snape must have realized that his footsteps were the only pair, Harry saw him dimly out of the corner of his eye as he stalked back towards him.

"Potter, quit stalling! We are going to see the headmaster!" He said, pulling Harry roughly away from the wall. Harry tried to hold his own weight as the Professor released his robes. He really did! But, to no avail as he sank to his knees on the cold stone. "For the love of Merlin, Potter! Get up or you will serve detention every night for the rest of the year!" Professor Snape snarled, looking down at Harry with dislike. Harry tried to get up, but he failed again, and he whispered his apology.

"Sorry Professor." Harry said, not looking at the man.

"You will be, Potter! Get up!" Professor Snape snarled again, dragging him up by the back of his robes and choking him with them. Harry was forced to support himself against the wall to quit himself from choking as his head continued to spin. Harry started to make his way along the wall in the direction the professor had been going and he heard the professor question him as he kept up easily beside him. "What is wrong with you Potter? Why are you acting like that?" the professor asked, and Harry almost ignored him but he thought better of it.

"M' head's spinning professor. Can't see straight." Harry said, covering his mouth as he felt like he was going to puke. He heard the professor sigh beside him.

"Very well, we will go to the hospital wing first Potter, but don't think you're getting out of seeing the headmaster." The professor said, taking hold of Harry's robes again, though this time he was more careful not to choke the boy with them, and leading him to the infirmary. When Harry got there he was immediately led to the closest bed. Harry was left to his own devices for a moment while the professor went to fetch the medi-witch, though he needn't have tried as she came out before he reached the door. She had set alarms on her wards that went off whenever someone entered the infirmary. She looked surprised to see the dour Potions Master there.

"Why, Severus, whatever brings you here? Are you unwell?" She frowned, looking him over.

"I am not here for myself, Poppy. I was leading Mr. Potter here to the Headmaster's office when he was suddenly unable to walk correctly. I asked him what was wrong and he told me that his head was spinning and he was unable to see straight. I thought it prudent to bring him into your care before releasing him to the Headmaster's mercies." Severus said, grimacing at the unpleasant conversation that was sure to take place between the two. Poppy smiled sympathetically.

"I'll just do a few diagnostic spells on the lad." She said, making her way over to Harry. She waved her wand more than a few times as she interwove every diagnostic spell she knew, and she was disturbed, to say the least. "Severus…what has happened to this boy?" she asked, wondering what had happened to cause this severe reaction with his magic.

"I don't know what you mean, Poppy. If you would so kindly explain." Severus said, his lip curling. Surely it couldn't be that bad. Harry Potter was surely thoroughly protected, so nothing extreme could have happened to him.

"His magical core is…odd. I don't know how else to describe it. It's off, somehow. It's like he's been releasing magic in uncontrolled amounts for at least a week now. Something of the same sort happens when children use accidental magic, but never this severe." She said, worrying as she looked over the first year.

"Only for two days." Harry muttered, not being able to focus on the witch or wizard in front of him. That drew a sharp gasp from Poppy.

"How do you know this, Mr. Potter? Explain, if you don't mind." Poppy asked not unkindly, giving Severus a look that said "You had better listen and listen good."

"It's…hard…I feel like…" he blinked, shaking his head as he felt his other persona slide over his consciensess.

"Mr. Potter?" Poppy asked, trying to get his attention.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Harry asked, a smile lighting his face.

"We were just asking you about what happened to you. Are you quite well?" She asked, looking at him, concerned. At this, Harry's smile widened.

"I'm fine. Nothing bad happened. I was just feeling a little off today. I think I can walk fine now." He said, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the hospital wing. He didn't need to be there, and he wanted to meet with the headmaster. It certainly would be an interesting meeting. He knew he had seen fear in the headmaster's eyes, and now he knew why.

"That's good then. Before I release you, Mr. Potter, have you been trying to do any wandless magic of any sort? It is severly trying on the magical core and can leave it damaged. If you are doing magic, Mr. Potter, I suggest you use a wand." Poppy said severely and it would have intimidated any other student his age. However, he faked looking ashamed to hide his small smirk.

"I'm sorry ma'am. It really was an accident. Three Gryffindors cornered me last night on my way back from the library and I may have given them a bit of a scare. It was an accident though. I'm sorry." He said, his face still down as his smirk widened.

"They weren't hurt, were they?" she asked, concerned.

"Oh, no ma'am. It didn't lash out. It just happened because they made me angry, and it scared them into leaving, so none of us really did anything. I believe we all even made it back to our common rooms before curfew." Harry said, smiling sweetly at her. He would have her in his pocket in no time. He found that fear and charm in equal measure could control anyone. The medi-witch looked critically at him for a moment.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. Try not to let something like this happen again. You could damage your magical core irreparably. It does repair itself over time for minor damage, such as accidental magic in children, but if you persist it will break you. I suggest you keep your wand on you to discharge your magical build up if that happens to you again. Cast a water charm, or something equally harmless." She said, before handing him a headache potion anyway. "Drink up, Mr. Potter, and you can go." She said, and she was surprised when he actually sniffed it first and peered into the bottle before downing it.

"Can I go now, ma'am? I guess I have to meet with the headmaster for some reason." He said innocently, though he guessed it was about the Gryffindors' behavior.

"You may. Stay with Professor Snape and don't go getting into any trouble now, you hear?" She said, making her way back to the office as Harry followed Professor Snape out of the hospital wing, glad to finally be rid of the place. He resisted the desire to point out that it had been a waste of time. He had felt a bit dizzy earlier, but as that visit had proved, all he had needed was a bit of a sit down to come to his right mind again.

"Mr. Potter." The professor said from in front of him as they walked. "Mind telling me what that was about?"

"I think I just needed a bit of a sit down Professor. I'm sorry for the bother." Harry said, though he was anything but. He sensed something darker about this man, like himself, but the man was saying nothing so he wouldn't either. As they made their way through Hogwarts to the Headmaster's office, Harry noted that though he had never been through this part of Hogwarts, he was finding the place oddly familiar. He shook his head. It was just a bit of déjà vu, most likely. He found an almost startling urge to laugh as they stopped in front of a gargoyle and the Professor named off a muggle sweet. He squashed it almost immediately as the stone creature leapt aside and let them through a stone door that led to a set of stone steps that looked much like an escalator as they revolved up.

'Hmm, so this is how to get to the Headmaster's office. I'll have to keep that in mind.' Harry thought as he and the Professor stepped on to the ascending stairs. As they reached the top, a voice told them to come in before they even deigned knock. They both went into the rather round office, and though the many silvery and spinning objects around the office might have caught the attention of anyone else his age, he was here with a purpose. He wanted first, to figure out how much the Headmaster knew about his current situation, whether or not he was on his side, and study how the man interacted with him so he could deem how the man could be useful to him in the future. The man seemed powerful, so he could indeed be a most useful ally. He would pretend to be the innocent student for a little while and see where it got him. As he sat down beside his professor in front of the man, he made sure his face was blank and questioning.

"Harry, good evening. Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked, offering him a bowl full of muggle sweets. There was no telling what the man might have put in them.

"No thank you, Professor. But if you could tell me, why am I here sir?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance.

"Ah, right to business. A shame, but it is a quality worthy of your house." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"Sir?" he was trying to keep himself from showing annoyance. It was best to play along if he wanted this to go quickly.

"Nothing, Harry. Not a thing. Now, you are here because something was brought to my attention today. Something involving you, if I am not mistaken." Dumbledore said, fixing him with a piercing gaze.

'Ah, trying to find out what I know before you divulge your own information. It would be clever, were I the typical stupid eleven year old. Best to play dumb.' Harry thought, feeling that he had already gotten a feel on the man's style. He was trying to be manipulative, but he would not match up to a Slytherin.

"Are you referring to how the Gryffindors are acting toward me, sir?" Harry asked, though he knew perfectly well that the man was.

"Yes, Harry, and it concerns me. What have you done to scare the house of lions so?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry almost snorted. The man was almost too thick. He was insinuating that he had thought they were braver than that. It was best to make his reply as plain as possible.

"It was an accident sir, honest." Harry said, feigning a frown. Baiting the man was the best option at the moment, and the easiest way to make put a spin on it from his point of view. He knew the old man would want to know more.

"Pray tell, what was an accident, dear boy?" the headmaster asked, his eyes still twinkling.

"Well…" Harry said, pretending to be nervous before launching into the same version of events that he had told the medi-witch. "Three Gryffindors cornered me yesterday, sir. I was on my way back to my common room from the library and they accosted me. I think I may have scared them a bit. My magic lashed out. I'm sorry. They just made me a little mad. They weren't hurt though. They just ran away. I think they've been avoiding me because of that, sir." He finished, pretending to look guilty.

"That's quite alright, dear boy. Quite alright. But I must ask…is there anything you wish to tell me, Harry?" the old man asked, and Harry made himself look confused though he was quickly becoming annoyed with this old man.

'Someone saw it. He knows what I said and he's waiting for me to come forward with it or hold it back. He has a plan either way. I'll be damned if I let myself become his pawn.' Harry thought, nearly snarling. He would say something to unsettle the man, if nothing else.

"Yes, sir…actually…" Harry started, baiting the man again. He saw a look of surprise cross the old features before it was quickly hidden behind that annoying grandfatherly smile again.

"Continue, Harry." Dumbledore said, and he could see that the man was positively anxious to hear what he would say next.

"Well sir, quite frankly, I'm glad they're afraid of me. If people are afraid of me, at least they'll leave me alone, right?" Harry asked, and he saw a different emotion flash in the headmaster's eyes.

"Harry, there are more effective ways of keeping others away from you than instilling fear, but why ever would you want to be left alone, dear boy?" The headmaster asked, allowing himself a frown. Harry could tell it was genuine, and the older wizard did not like the way this conversation was going at all.

"Well sir, the thing is, people are always around me. I'm tired of people swarming me and asking me the same tactless questions. They always ask me what happened that night, and do I miss my parents, and how I did it, sir. I don't get how they think I would remember anything about it. I was one year old. Quite frankly, I don't get it. People say I'm the boy-who-lived, but what does that actually mean? I survived a murder attempt by a manic that had killed my parents minutes before. Why would anyone think I could be proud of that? I don't see how I could have done it. I was just a baby. There's no way I could have defeated the Dark Lord on my own. It's preposterous" Harry said, slipping at the tongue a bit at the end and silently scolding himself for it.

He felt his other persona trying to slide over his consciousness, and he could not allow that in front of this man. His other consciousness was begging to suppress his emotions like he always did, but he couldn't allow that. Not when his rage, inexplicable as it was, had made him so powerful, and especially not here in front of this man. He would not abide being weak again. He looked at the man, and he seemed to be contemplating.

'Good. I think I have him convinced. Even if one of his little spies heard my tirade yesterday, it will fit nicely with this, I think. It's understandable that a child in my position would be so angry, and would want to avenge his parents. I think I've done well. The only thing I need to worry about now is the threat I made to the Gryffindors. I'll have to tread carefully for awhile. At least until I find out who the spy is and stage some misleading conversations and comments in front of him.' Harry thought, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the old man's presence now that he knew what he needed to know. Finally, after a few long minutes, the old man spoke again.

"Very well, Harry. I can see why you would like to be left alone, but try to control your magic a bit better in the future, if you please. I will try to impart on the heads of Houses to discourage rumors, at the least. That might make it a bit easier for you." Dumbledore said, though Harry could tell the man was at least a little shaken up. Harry almost smiled, but he controlled himself. He would rather not be indebted to this man, but it would help him ignore others a bit better if they were a bit more subdued. He was sure that the rumors of him being the next Dark Lord had already spread, so he had no problem with the subjugation of rumors now. People would steer clear of him for awhile, if for no other reason than to avoid his wrath. His only problem was who was going to partner with him in the partner required classes once Monday came around. He was sure Hermione would partner with him in Potions at least, and maybe in Herbology, but he didn't know if Gryffindor would be there for every partnered lesson. Maybe he would have to make up with Draco just for the sake of his grades. Finally, after waiting a bit while lost in his thoughts, he answered.

"Yes sir, I will try, and thank you." Harry said, and after they were dismissed by the headmaster, Professor Snape led him back down the stairs and into the corridor. Once they were there, he dismissed Harry. Holding back a smirk, he made his way to the library. That had gone almost exactly as he had wanted it to. Albeit, he would have to be more careful now that he knew he was being watched, but more than that, he had a strong inkling of whom to be more careful around. His professor, though there was something undeniably dark about him, respected the headmaster, so he would most definitely have to tread carefully around him. He might even have been the one that watched his little confrontation with Weasley, so he had heard his threat. He could have fun with this, but he knew he had to be careful in his little game with the headmaster.

He could very well lose, and that would leave him not only humiliated, but much worse off for the wear. He couldn't say how just yet, but he knew the headmaster could make his life very difficult. Even send him back to the Dursleys. But he'd be damned if he was going to be the good little boy that he used to be, especially when he had to go back for the summer holidays. Things were most definitely going to change, and if the Dursleys tried any of their old business about not feeding him he was going to have more than a little to say about it, especially once he learned a few choice curses. Maybe he would make up with Draco just to learn a few, if nothing else. It wasn't like he couldn't act the part, and now that he was supposedly so unpredictable, he didn't think they would question him too much if he did. He certainly had the right mentality, so most of it wouldn't be an act. The only thing he really didn't want to do was alienate Hermione, but it might be necessary for what he needed.

He needed allies, not friends, and with most of the Slytherins' parents being who they are, they must have taught their children a fair bit of magic even before coming to Hogwarts. Then again, he had his pride. If they wanted to be around him again, they could come and seek him out again. They could beg forgiveness, and he, being the merciful boy he was, would grant it. He almost smiled at that, and then he realized what he was thinking and was almost appalled. What was getting into him? He supposed that he just needed to clear his mind and relax for a while, but where could he do that? He decided that rather than the library, he would go relax on the grounds for a little while. No one would expect to find him out there. He changed direction and tried not to be seen by anyone, but with his luck, Weasley spotted him and made a beeline for him, along with his two older twin brothers this time.

Harry really didn't feel like dealing with them at the moment, and he had to be careful, but the fact was, he really couldn't avoid it and Weasley seemed intent upon being a thorn in his side. He sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting for Weasley to make his way toward him. He decided to make a comment before Weasley could open his mouth.

"Awww, the little weasel was scared so he brought his big brothers this time. What ever happened to just avoiding me? I liked it better that way." Harry said bitingly, glaring at Weasley. Intent on making an ass of himself, Weasley pulled his wand on Harry and pointed it at him. Harry did nothing but sneer when Weasley replied.

"You just surprised me last time, Potter. It won't happen again." Weasley said, though he didn't even start an incantation.

"Ha. What happened to the rumor that I'm supposed to be the next Dark Lord? Or is that why you came? You want my fame so badly that you figure if you can take me out everyone will love you for it? After all, I'm supposed to be a Dark Lord in training, right? What would that make you? The _weasel_-who-lived?" Harry sneered, smirking at the reaction he got from the redhead. His ears turned red and he started sputtering, and as he was trying to start an incantation, Harry's wand was out so fast that neither of the three redheads saw it until it was pointed at Weasley's face. The twins had their wands trained on him in the next two seconds, and the fun didn't stop there. Both Draco and his group, the Slytherin firsties, and Hermione Granger along with some other Gryffindor girl Harry didn't know was coming down the hall, and Hermione, seeing the trouble Harry was in, rushed to his aid.

Harry hadn't noticed the Slytherins, who were watching with interest what would happen, though they too had their wands out and pointed at all the Gryffindors.

"Leave him alone!" Hermione said, attempting to step in between Weasley and Harry.

"Don't make me hex you, Granger." Weasley warned, though his wand never left Harry's face. Harry looked at her and before he knew what came out of his mouth, he spoke.

"Like I need your help, Mudblood. Go crawl back into your nest in the library!" he hissed, realizing too late what he said. Hermione was dumbstruck, but Weasley looked furious.

"How dare you call her that! I'll hex your bloody tongue off!" Weasley roared, but before he could do a single thing, Harry uttered a curse that he had never heard of and Weasley was flying backwards with his brothers. They were all just knocked out, but Hermione was furious.

"So, what everyone's been saying is true then? I thought I knew you, Harry! I thought we were friends!" Hermione said, close to tears.

"I don't need friends, Granger. Especially not ones with dirty blood. Like I said, go crawl back in your nest." Harry hissed, forcing himself to sound disdainful when he was raging inside. Begging himself to take back what he said. But he couldn't. He already knew that he needed allies and not friends, and she would only hold him back.

"I hate you!" She said, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks as she ran past the Slytherins who Harry had just noticed in a numb sort of way. The Slytherins all looked impressed, occasionally glancing down at the tree unconscious Weasleys. Almost like someone had called her, which Harry didn't doubt, Professor McGonagall showed up and demanded an explanation. Before any of the other Slytherins spoke up, Harry did.

"Professor! I'm sorry! I know we aren't supposed to use magic in the corridors, but it was self-defense! Weasley and his brothers tried to attack me when I was just trying to go outside! I hadn't even said a word to them!" Harry said, which was a lie.

"Well, be that as it may, you were the only one who used magic, from what I can see. You could have called for a teacher, Mr. Potter. Instead, you chose violence. I'm very disappointed in you. Twenty points from Slytherin for attacking another student." She said, and she started to levitate them away, presumably to the hospital wing. Harry wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. She hadn't given him detention at least, but still. She didn't take any points from her own house and they had instigated the fight. Harry was livid, and though his wand had itched so badly that he had to put his wand in his pocket, he would not curse a teacher. He couldn't allow his anger to get the better of him in that instance. He would have had more time to think, but the Slytherins were all on him, both clapping him on the back for the excellent curse and calling McGonagall some horrible names once she was out of ear shot.

They asked him where he had learned the curse, which he now knew was the blasting curse from what they said, and they all just stared at him when he said he had never learned it. He didn't remember even remember reading about it. Then, to break the odd silence, Draco clapped him on the back and said what all the rest of the Slytherin firsties were thinking.

"So, you finally decided to ditch that Mudblood! What made you change your mind, Harry?" Draco asked, grinning at Harry.

"So it's Harry again?" Harry asked, though he was pleased he was back in the blonde's good books.

"Yeah, but you didn't answer my question. What made you change your mind?" Draco asked again, starting the group toward the common room so they wouldn't be bothered. Harry snorted before he spoke.

"I've come to terms with the fact that she was beneath me. I can't believe I spent so much time with a Mudblood. I feel dirty now. Want to help me burn my robes?" Harry asked with a sneer, gaining a laugh from the Slytherins. He was fighting against the urge to run after her, but as he thought about it, it was becoming less and less desirable. He was becoming numb again, but his new attitude wasn't fading like it normally did.

"I'm glad you finally came to your senses. We were about to intervene." Draco said seriously, and Harry was surprised.

"Really?" Harry asked, in spite of himself. He couldn't help it.

"Yeah. You were disgracing us all." Draco said, shrugging.

"Wait…what were you planning to do?" Harry asked, suddenly curious.

"Hex you and bring you back to the common room, if we had to." Draco said, smirking at Harry.

"Ha. What happened to the fear? I thought I was supposed to be the next Dark Lord. What happened?" Harry joked, pausing as they waited for the stone wall to melt away so they could get into the common room. Once they were in, Draco replied.

"We were bringing you to your senses. You would have thanked us…eventually." Draco said, smirking.

"You know, I would have been pissed, but as I don't know any decent curses yet I would have nothing to retaliate with." Harry said as he took a seat by the fire. Draco plopped himself down in the chair next to Harry's and the other three took the sofa.

"Well, according to you, you don't know _any_ curses yet." Draco said slyly, smirking.

"Touché. You caught me. And I suppose _you_ know some decent ones?" Harry asked, yawning and stretching.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Draco said with a smile.

"We all do." Blaise said, with an edge in his voice that said he didn't like being left out of the conversation.

"Will you all teach me some then?" Harry asked, looking around at the other four Slytherins.

"What's in it for us?" Draco and Blaise asked simultaneously, which resulted in laughter. When Harry finally sobered up, he answered.

"What do you want?" Harry asked with a smirk, leaning back lazily. Draco and Blaise both thought for a few minutes and Harry was silent while he waited for their answers. Draco answered first.

"I want one unspecified favor in the future for every curse I teach you." Draco answered. Harry replied almost right away.

"I want to learn a lot if you know a bunch of curses, which I'm sure you do. Let's make it a favor for every three." Harry said, and Draco shook his head.

"No way. Two then, but not three." Draco said, looking at Blaise for confirmation.

"That sounds good to me as well." Blaise said, nodding. Harry sighed.

"How about this then. Three and I teach you all some charms and counter charms you may not know. I know you may not put much stock in them, but some charms can be dead useful if you know how to use them." Harry said, waiting for the reply. Draco and Blaise talked for a few minutes out of the way, and they came to the conclusion that together, they had roughly twelve curses and counter curses they could teach him.

"We agree to the terms." Draco said, and Harry nodded.

"Good. Let's get to work then. Do either of you know anywhere we can practice?" Harry asked, and both shook their heads. Draco had a suggestion though.

"Why don't we ask one of the older students if there's any place like that." Draco suggested, and the three agreed. Vince and Greg would most likely be learning too, but as Draco pointed out to Harry in a whisper, it might take them a little longer to learn the spells than he, Harry, and Blaise.

"Okay, but who would be trustworthy to ask?" Harry asked, and the other two stared at him.

"What I mean is, who wouldn't go report it to Dumbledore right away? We can't ask a prefect because they're duty bound to tell him and I don't want the old man to know what I'm doing." Harry said casually, and Draco laughed.

"You've got a point. I'll subtly ask around. I'll even leave your name out of it. I'll just ask if there's a place around where we can practice jinxes without attracting attention. If I say anything about getting not getting caught, that's what raises the alarm bells." Draco said, and Harry agreed.

"Okay. Let's go ask around. I want a few curses under my belt before any more Gryffindors try anything." Harry said, and Draco spoke up right after he was done speaking.

"Yeah. We've been meaning to talk to you about that too. You need to quit walking around by yourself. You're a Slytherin and the boy-who-lived, and that makes you more of a target than any of us. You need to be careful Harry. Other Houses won't hesitate to hurt you, despite the fact that we're supposed to be the bad ones and haven't even done anything to provoke or start it. We are discriminated against more than any other House, so we need to look out for one another. You saw what McGonagall did earlier. She took points from us and not her own House for that stupid fight in the hallway, and we all saw that Weasley was ready to hex you. You were faster on the draw and you were the only one who got in trouble." Draco said, looking at Harry seriously.

'Now that I think about it, it was pretty stupid to walk around alone on my part. But I was fighting with them. I couldn't exactly ask them to come with me. He's right though. McGonagall was really unfair. I even wanted to hex her myself, but I'm not stupid enough to hex a teacher. I thought the head of Gryffindor was supposed to be fair, but I guess I was mistaken. I'll have to be more careful in the future.' Harry thought, and consented out loud.

"You have a point. I won't walk around alone anymore. Now, let's get going. I'm getting anxious to learn some of these curses already." Harry said, and the others agreed. They still had three hours until dinner, so Harry was hoping they could at least find a place before then. As it turned out, when they split up into two groups, Harry and Blaise looking around themselves for a place, while Draco went with Vince and Greg to ask some older Slytherin students. It was only a little over an hour after they parted when Draco and the other two found Harry and Blaise as they were walking around and Draco told them the news. He pulled them into an empty classroom off the side of an abandoned corridor and began to speak.

"There's a place an older student, who shall remain nameless, found in his fourth year. It's a room on the third floor that disappears unless you really need it. Apparently if you walk past a certain stretch of wall three times and think of what you need, it turns into it. It's the most advanced bit of magic I've ever heard of!" Draco said excitedly, and that got Harry to thinking.

'That is indeed advanced magic. I think we should check this out today.' He decided, and told the other students the last bit out loud. They all agreed and they went up to the third floor, carefully avoiding the forbidden corridor because they didn't want detention, nor did they want to lose any more points. They finally made it to the specified stretch of wall, and holding up a hand to halt the group, Harry walked past it three times with the thought of what he needed in his head.

'We need a place to practice magic. One we can't be caught in. One the headmaster nor anyone who supports him will be able to breach while we are inside or near it.' Harry thought three times, each time he passed the stretch. After the third pass, a door did indeed appear, and he and the others excitedly made their way inside. The room was magnificent. There were cushions all over the floor to practice stunning, chairs for relaxation after a spell took a lot out of you, dummies to practice on, and even shelves lined with books, though Harry realized to his disappointment that once he looked at them, were just basic spells. He needed advanced stuff, but it was fine for what they needed it for at the moment. He made sure the door was closed and he suggested that they start practicing some of his charms, since they were easier and faster to learn than curses, and they would learn curses tomorrow.

Everyone agreed, and so the first charm they started practicing was Stupefy. After Draco, Blaise, and Harry mastered it while practicing on Vince and Greg, he taught them the counter charm, which was Ennervate. Harry, having had no time or place to actually practice the charms he had read about, had to do them too. He only knew the wand movement as it was demonstrated in the book, and the incantation. It only took him a few tries to master both the charm and counter charm though, and the rest of the time was spent with Draco and Blaise finishing up and teaching Vince and Greg how to do it while Draco and Blaise were the practice people this time. They couldn't use the dummies for stunners because it wouldn't show any results as it was made for living flesh, and Harry was the teacher.

After they had all mastered the charms, they hurried down to dinner, having only ten minutes until it started and not wanting to be caught up on the third floor. Harry grinned as they hurried down the corridor as a group. This week was going to be fun, if nothing else. When they were done with dinner, the three decided to risk the third floor for a second time today to get more practice in and start learning a new spell. Harry once again halted them to make the room appear himself. He rethought what he needed over dinner and changed his request to the room a bit.

'We need a place to practice advanced charms and curses. Charms and curses for first through seventh years. We need it to be inaccessible to Dumbledore or anyone who supports him while we are inside, and we need an alarm to tell us if anyone is in this corridor, and we need the door to be unable to open from the inside or outside until that person leaves.' Harry thought three times, walking past the stretch of wall three times again. It was a bit long winded, but he needed the specifics so they couldn't be caught. When the door opened, they rushed in again. The room was almost the same, but it was expanded. There were more book shelves and more advanced magic in them than before. Harry took down a few books, satisfied with what they contained, and they once again worked on charms for today. This time, he took one out of one of the books. The shield charm.

It would be more than useful for all of them. As it turned out, it was harder than they thought, and not one of them mastered it by the time they left. Harry didn't mind much though. They would be doing it all week after classes, and into next weekend, and even into the week after if need be. Even better than that, they still had all day tomorrow besides meals. They had all done their homework. Even Vince and Greg, albeit with help from the other three Slytherin firsties. They were both surprisingly proficient in DADA, and Draco smiled when he realized that. Charms were a bit harder on them, but offensive and defensive spells would be a bit easier for them. They all made it to their common room without being accosted, much to the disappointment of Harry. He wanted to stupefy a few Gryffindors on the way, but most of them were still avoiding him. As they all made quick plans to meet up again and went up to bed, Harry felt content for the first time in a long time. He was exhausted too, and he fell asleep seconds after he lay down.

The next day, the five got up together and after showering, they went to breakfast together. Draco joked about how small in stature Harry was on the walk to the Great Hall, never having been in the shower room with him at the same time before. Red faced, Harry told him that it wasn't his fault. Draco jokingly asked whose fault it was, but Harry wouldn't answer. He wouldn't tell even his friends how much the muggles he lived with hated him, to the point where they would regularly starve him. He never really talked about it, unless you count what he had said to Draco on the train, which wasn't much. After not answering him though, he noticed Draco looking at him more than he usually did during breakfast, but he thought nothing of it. While they were eating, Draco joked that he was too skinny and he needed to eat more. Harry just laughed along, but he added no more to his plate. He would eat his fill and no more.

He knew he wasn't going to starve, so there was no point in gorging himself and making himself sick. After breakfast, they spent all day up on the third floor, and to their surprise, it took them until lunch time for them all to master the shield charm, and then after lunch, they moved on to curses. They learned four spells in all by the end of the day. The ones they learned were Levicorpus, which Draco commented was really funny when used, and Harry agreed, Liberacorpus, which was the counter spell for the prior, Incarcerous, which was a spell to bind someone with ropes, and Relashio, which could be used as the counter spell for Incarcerous, but could also be used to release someone from chains, ropes, the claws of a creature, and someone else's grasp. There were plenty of uses for it, and they found more in the books they had.

Harry, meanwhile, found something that caught his interest that he decided to bring up before they left the room for the night. He had found out a bit about the three unforgivables, and he had even found out about Azkaban, the wizarding prison in Britain. He turned to Draco and Blaise and decided to ask his questions.

"Hey, what are the unforgiveable curses? I've read about them. I know there are three and I know that using any one of them gets you a lifetime ticket to Azkaban, but the book never says what the curses actually are or what they do. Do any of you know?" Harry asked, looking to all four of the boys now. They all looked a bit put off by the question, and Draco answered first.

"Well. The three curses are as follows. The Impirius curse, which allows you to control someone's every action and thought. The Cruciatis curse, which causes unimaginable pain to whomever it is used on. It's used for torture, mostly…well…that's all it's really useful for anyway. Then there's the Killing curse. You can imagine what that does just by the name. It kills the victim instantly without leaving a mark. None of the three are blockable, but they can be dodged. The thing about the killing curse is, it's usually not survivable if it hits. There was only one person who was known to have survived it, and no one knows how or why it happened. It's some really dark magic, so it's hard to see how he survived it without having some really powerful dark magic on his side in the first place." Draco said, and Blaise and Draco shared a look.

"So…who was it?" Harry asked, looking between the two of them.

"Well, it was…you, mate." Blaise said, and Harry was shocked, and for the first time, he couldn't keep it from his face.

'I survived a killing curse from the most powerful dark wizard of his time? How? Is this what I'm famous for? Is this why they think I'll be the next Dark Lord?' Harry was starting to breathe more heavily, but before it could start into panic, he closed his eyes and tried to relax himself, breathing deeply and slowly.

"You okay, Harry?" Draco asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Harry opened his eyes and nodded.

"Yeah. It was just a bit of a shock. So…that's what I'm really famous for, isn't it?" he asked, plopping down in one of the cushioned chairs. Draco and Blaise squirmed uncomfortably.

"In a way." Draco said weakly, shrugging. Harry laughed and shook his head, and the two shared a concerned look.

"I almost can't believe it. I've known the truth for only a few weeks now, and only one thought has crossed my mind about the whole thing." Harry said, placing his head in his hands. He felt a hand on his back and one on his shoulder.

"And what's that, Harry?" Draco asked gently, the concern in his voice. Harry shook his head.

"It isn't important." Harry said, standing up again. "Let's just go back to the common room." He continued, closing his eyes for a moment and letting his first persona slide over him to block out the pain and anything else he might feel. He opened them and took a deep breath before heading toward the door. The alarm hadn't went off, but as he opened the door, he peered around the corridor anyway just to be sure. There was no one so they made their way back to the common room in silence, partly from not wanting to be caught, and partly from the mood that his stupid line of questioning had led to. One thing was for sure though. If nothing else, he wanted to learn the Impirius curse. It would be dead useful, especially in getting what he wanted. All he had to do was be covert about it.

Then he smiled as he thought about being able to use the Cruciatis curse on his relatives. He could certainly use that to teach them some respect. They wouldn't dare mess with him again if he could do that. He would have to see if he could find the incantations and wand movements somewhere. Sure, they wouldn't be in normal school books, because they were the unforgivables, but they might be in books in the restricted section. Hogwarts was, after all, over a thousand years old from what he heard. There had to still be some books, preserved by magic, that were there before the curses were banned. He didn't know whether or not he could trust the Slytherins as far as the unforgivables went, so he might have to find them himself. He wasn't going to practice on them, after all. He would only be able to learn the incantations and wand movements for now.

Not only that, but he had no way of knowing what kind of spells were set in place to alert someone if an unforgivable was used inside the castle, and who cast it, and he was not about to find out. In his musings, Harry suddenly had a bad feeling. He stopped walking and halted the other four with his hand silently. He had them all hide in an empty classroom off to the side, and just as they got inside and closed the door, they heard footsteps. Harry stood against the door, trying to hear whomever was outside it. He was the only one close enough to the door to hear, and on the other side, he heard a man muttering as he strode past, ignorant of the five students that were hiding in the classroom he was passing.

"I can't master…I do not know how to get past Hagrid's beast yet…" the man said, and that was all Harry heard before the man passed out of his range of hearing again. They waited for five whole minutes before Harry felt it was safe again, and they hurried back to the common room. When they got there, they all asked Harry what that was about at one time. Harry held a hand up.

"I heard a teacher coming and I didn't know if we were out past curfew yet." He answered distractedly, sitting down in a chair in front of the middle fireplace and staring into the flames as he thought. Hagrid had some kind of beast somewhere that someone was trying to get past. But why? And who was he calling master? He hadn't heard another voice, let alone another set of footsteps. Who could he have been talking to? Maybe he was insane…

"Harry! Are you okay?" Draco asked, and Harry noticed he was standing in front of him.

"Yeah, why?" he asked, puzzled at the concerned look on the blonde's pale face.

"Well, we called your name a few times. Professor Snape is just outside the common room. He needs to speak to you about something." Draco said, and with a sigh, Harry stood up. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his other persona slide over him before he went toward the exit to deal with whatever he's done now. He noticed, as he walked, that every time he let his persona, and therefore his attitude, change, they felt closer together each time. That was really the only way to describe it. It was like they were combining. With an annoyed shake of the head, he cleared his thoughts and pressed on the fake stone wall, causing it to melt away and reveal Professor Snape staring moodily at him from the outside.

"Potter." He said with a sneer. "Come with me."

Harry stepped out into the hallway and started to follow him, saying nothing to the man. Had it been his voice he heard earlier? He couldn't tell. The man had been muttering, so he hadn't been very loud in the first place. He suspected they were going to Dumbledore's office again for some more inane conversation with the deceptively clever man, so he was surprised when they stayed in the dungeons and instead made their way toward Professor Snape's office. When they got there, the professor opened the door with a whispered password and waved Harry in before him. As he got inside, there were animal parts floating in jars everywhere, and though it might have creeped him out if he were anyone else, he had learned to block his emotions for a reason. He just stood off to the side to await the professor. As soon as the man was in and the door was closed, Professor Snape stood in front of him, towering over him like the tall, dark, foreboding man he was.

"Potter. Do you mind telling me why three Gryffindors, a first year, and two third years, are in the hospital wing with severe concussions?" he asked, looking menacing. Harry just smiled up at him, showing the man he wasn't that easy to intimidate.

"I have no idea professor. Maybe they were getting into something they couldn't handle." Harry said with a smirk, earning a look of rage from the professor.

"You are aware, Mr. Potter, that magic is not allowed in the corridors even for a celebrity such as yourself, are you not?" the professor asked, sneering.

"Oh yes, professor. I know. The fact is, they threatened me first. I was just quicker on the draw." Harry said, still smirking.

"You are also aware," he continued as if he didn't hear Harry, "that to use magic in the hallways can result in not only the loss of points, but a detention as well, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes sir, I am aware of this as well. We have already had points taken for it." Harry said, losing his smirk as he remembered just how much he wanted to hex McGonagall. "And she didn't take any points from her own house either." Harry said, almost growling. The professor ignored the last part and addressed him again.

"Well, since it seems that you can't seem to understand the message clearly enough, I should make it clearer. That is my job, after all, as a professor. You will have detention with me Wednesday night at 8 o clock, Mr. Potter, and if you are late, I can assure you I can make your life that much more difficult. If you do happen to be late, you will have a detention for every second you are not here after precisely 8 p.m. Is that understood?" Professor Snape asked, his lip curling unpleasantly. Taking a deep breath, Harry answered.

"Yes, sir. As you wish." Harry said as politely as he could, his face a mask of calm to hide his once again growing rage. He wasn't going to disagree with his head of house, but oh, some Gryffindors had some hell coming when he got the chance. He couldn't hex a teacher without being found out, but he could hex her students well enough and stay anonymous, and he was going to learn some nasty ones from those books, if nothing else. "May I go now, sir?" Harry asked, looking up at his professor as he tried to control his facial features, his rage spilling out with his magic again.

"Unfortunately, I have to escort you back to your common room, Potter. You are out after curfew now." The Professor said, and Harry's magic spiked, though he controlled it so nothing would happen.

"Yes sir. May we go now?" Harry asked, trying to keep his breathing even though he wanted nothing more than to learn the Cruciatis curse right now and use it on a very deserving Gryffindor, namely McGonagall or Weasley.

"Let us be on our way." The professor said, opening his office door and waving him out into the hallway. If Harry could have seen the professor's face after he turned around, he would have seen the momentary look of fear that crossed his features before it was covered up again. Professor Snape could definitely feel the surge of power, and the rage behind it, and the sheer amount of it was astounding. How could an eleven year old boy hold so damned much in? And act calm about it, like he wasn't pissed off enough to kill right now. Severus almost shuddered at that. This child was much too young to be experiencing what he was, let alone wielding that kind of raw power. And he was controlling it too! It wasn't destroying anything, or making anything shake, or doing odd little things that accidental magic usually did. It was just writhing around him like so many snakes, waiting to strike. It was almost terrifying. What was this child?

"Professor?" Harry asked politely, his rage building. All he wanted to do was get to his common room so he could do some stupid little charm a few times to let all of his access magic go. He needed to release it before he did it on accident and damaged his magical core. He did not need that at the moment, especially if he was going to be practicing magic every day. Without a word, he started to make his way down the corridor, ignoring the man that fell into step behind him. He took deep, calming breaths, but it did not help him in the slightest. His rage, and therefore his magic, was getting harder and harder to control each second, and he almost laughed at the foolishness that he thought he would make it to the common room. Then, he almost released his rage as he saw a somewhat familiar tall figure walking toward him in midnight blue robes. "Headmaster." Harry addressed politely, though he was almost bursting at the seams now, his magic become wild around him as he fought to control it.

"Harry." He said pleasantly. "I thought we might talk for a moment before you retire to your bed. Is that acceptable?" Dumbledore asked, and his rage built more, and it was spreading, from just surrounding him, to all over the corridor, the tendrils writhing wildly. He still hadn't lost control yet, surprisingly, but he was damn close as his magic inched toward the headmaster, itching to strangle him.

"Now is not the best time, sir. I am really tired. Can it not wait?" He asked, his voice wavering though he tried to keep it steady.

"I'm afraid not. Can you step into this abandoned classroom, please?" Dumbledore said, and Harry obliged him, fighting with himself every step of the way as he restrained his magic and forced it into the room. As he stepped in and stood in the center of the room, the magic tendrils creeping up the walls to the ceiling like vines. He was facing away from the two older wizards as they stepped in and could not see the concerned look the darker young man was giving the headmaster. With a deep breath, Harry finally turned back to look at the two older wizards.

"What is it that you wanted, sir?" Harry asked, his voice calm again though he was still seething.

"I wanted to ask you about your confrontation today, Harry. Are you quite alright, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.

"I am fine sir. And with all due respect sir, could you not talk to Professor Snape about this? He has already asked me about it and I really am tired. I feel I am about to fall asleep on my feet." Harry said with a smile, his magic convulsing.

"I cannot Harry. I must ask, why did you use such a curse on another student Harry? You could have really hurt someone." Dumbledore said, frowning. Harry almost screamed at him in frustration. He grit his teeth, leaning back against the wall as he used all of his self control to keep his magic from lashing out at the headmaster, as it was now crawling toward him. In his rage, which only spiked higher, he didn't filter what he said this time.

"Maybe I thought they deserved it, sir. They were in my way and I removed them. Is that a problem?" he hissed, glaring at the headmaster. The old wizard seemed taken aback by this, and Professor Snape actually took a step back. "And now, you are in my way, sir. Should I do the same?" Harry asked, scowling as he took a step toward the headmaster.

"Mr. Potter, mind your tongue!" Professor Snape snapped, though he looked anything but angry. If Harry didn't know better, he would say the professor was scared. Harry smiled, though his rage was still as high as ever and still inching toward Dumbledore.

"How about you make me, Professor. Do you think you could? After all, I am only an eleven year old boy. Never mind the fact that I not only survived the killing curse, but vanquished the Dark Lord. Come on, professor. Curse me. I wonder if you could actually do anything. I'll tell you what, professor. If you can make me scream, I _won't_ make you scream." Harry said, his eyes gleaming red. Now, both of the older wizards were stunned into silence. "Nothing, Professor? Very well then." He pointed his wand at the professor. "Cruci-" he gripped his throat, suddenly cut off. He looked at the old man, who had his wand trained at him. His eyes flashed as his magic concentrated and slammed against the old man, knocking him into the stone wall and knocking him out. That, more than anything, seemed to bring Harry to his senses. He quickly went over to the window and opened it, shouting his spell, as the silencing spell was canceled with Dumbledore being knocked unconscious.

"Aguamenti!" he screamed, aiming his wand out the window and releasing a wide jet of water that resembled a fire hose. Slowly, his rage and magic soaked back into him to fuel the spell, and when it was gone, he collapsed to the ground. Breathing heavily, he looked at his Professor. "Professor…I…I'm so sorry. I…I can't believe…I almost…" Harry's hand flew to his mouth as he looked back down at his lap. He felt like he was going to be sick. He looked over as his Professor revived the headmaster with an Ennervate. As the headmaster blinked and sat up, Harry looked back down at his lap.

"Harry?" Came the old man's voice from across the room. Harry kept his eyes to his lap.

"Headmaster…I'm so sorry! I lost control, sir! I…" Harry said, tearing up. "I'm sorry…" he whispered, his tears overflowing in his eyes.

'Oh god…no! They're going to send me to Azkaban! I can't! I can't go there! Why did I lose control? Why couldn't I just stop? I could have just cast the charm in the first place, and I could have explained what Madam Pomfrey told me to do, and now I can't! I can't do anything…my life is over!' Harry thought, his breathing getting more shallow and rapid until he was hyperventilating, huddled up by the window. He didn't hear the two older wizards talking over his own breathing, and he most likely wouldn't have anyway. He was quickly becoming lost to the world as his thoughts and his mood spiraled downward, faster and faster. He never felt the hand of the headmaster on his shoulder, nor did he notice the old man turning him to look him in the eyes. With a whisper from the old man, his mind was being torn apart and he screamed. It was the most horrible sound he had ever made.

Yet at the same time, it brought him back to his senses and he noticed that he was reliving some of his memories, and then he was viewing others that were not his. Memories of another life. Of another person. He felt something else. Someone else's magic, and it was tearing through his mind.

"Get out! Get out get out get out! Leave me alone!" he screamed mentally and physically at the same time, shoving the presence out of his mind with his magic. Finally he was blessedly alone again in his own head, and he had a terrible headache. Some of his memories felt…torn around the edges. Like they were ripped from their proper place, viewed, and thrown back, and not in the right place. Once again, he was living memories that weren't his. A seaside and a huge cliff. A bunch of other children. He was climbing down the cliff with two of them. Suddenly, the memory was washed away by one of his own. Ripper, chasing him up the tree in the front yard. His Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and Aunt Marge laughing as the dog jumped and snapped at him. The memory changed again, and he was sitting in Hogwarts, and he was studying hard. He was waiting for the class to end so he could ask the headmaster once again if he could remain at Hogwarts when the school closed down over the summer.

He begged and begged, but he was denied. Headmaster Dippet just didn't understand. They hated him at the orphanage. They all thought he was a freak. He didn't belong there. He could do things they could never do. Things they could never imagine. Yet they still shunned him, and he hated them all. He would have left, but even if he did the muggle authorities would have brought him right back. One more year, he told himself. One more year, and he would be of age, and he would be able to leave this place forever. The memory changed again, and he was sitting in his cupboard. He was so hungry. So terribly hungry. The muggles kept him in here at their leisure. They only let him out to do chores, and to eat when he did them well enough, and then he was back in the darkness. He was alone, and he had nothing. The only friends he ever had were the spiders. He loved school. It was the only time he was out of his cupboard more than three hours a day.

The only bad thing was Dudley, but it wasn't always bad because he could run away from him, and Dudley was never good at running. The memory changed again. He was in Diagon Alley, all alone. The first shop he went to was Ollivander's. He had seen the wand that Professor Dumbledore had, and he had wanted one ever since. It was the key to what he really was. Proof that he wasn't some weak muggle. He entered the shop, and he went through wand after wand, and none of them worked right. Then, suddenly, one did. It was beautiful. A light, almost peach colored thin stick of wood. Yew, 13 ½ inches, with a phoenix tail feather in the center. He was delighted. Finally, a wand that wanted him. He gave the man his money, leaving with a huge smile on his face. Now no one could oppose him. He was all powerful. He was the best! He went next to get his school books. He looked around the book shop as he entered. He wanted every book they had, but the school only gave him money for his school books, and then he would have enough for some his robes, parchment, quills, ink, and his potions ingredients.

He stayed at the book shop for a good hour just looking through every book he could before he bought his school books and left there as well. He walked down the street toward the apothecary, a smile on his face. He couldn't wait to start potions. It was another type of magic, and every type of magic was amazing. It tied him to who he really was, just like his wand. The memory changed, and he was on the train, going to Hogwarts. He was sitting alone, when a blonde boy and two others came into the compartment. They started to talk and the blonde sat down, opposite him. He eventually introduced himself and they talked for awhile. The lunch cart came around and he and the blonde boy bought nearly the whole thing, and he watched in amazement as the cart refilled itself once the witch was paid.

The memory changed, and he was waiting in line to be sorted. Finally his name was called.

"Riddle, Tom!"

He walked up to the stool confidently. Finally, he was going to have a family. He put the hat on and it slipped down over his eyes. The hat's voice sounded in his ear.

"Hmmmmm, an ambitious young lad, aren't you. Cunning as well. Purity of blood matters much to you as well. This is no contest…SLYTHERIN!" Yelled the hat, and he took it off. He walked over to his table and his new family, smiling as though Christmas had come early this year. He was finally home.

Suddenly, he was shaking. No, he was being shaken. He blinked and looked up into blue piercing eyes.

"Professor? What's wrong?" he asked, looking around to find a strange dark man, studying him like he had never seen anything like him before. "Where are we, Professor?" he asked, not recognizing the room. He had to play nice with the wizard. He had already said too much to him when the old man had come to tell him he was a wizard. He had been so excited when he found out, that he had spilled out his prized secrets. But never again.

"Do you not remember, dear boy?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.

'Dear boy? What does he think he's playing at. Is he trying to be nice to me in front of this other man. Speaking of which, who is that?' he thought, looking over the dark man. He decided to speak up.

"No, Professor. I don't believe I have ever been here before." He said, shaking his head.

"What do you remember?" Dumbledore asked kindly. He was really getting tired of this. Ever polite, though, he answered.

"I remember leaving the Great Hall after dinner, and then walking back to the common room. Then, nothing…" he said faintly. How had he ended up here?

"Oh dear. Maybe I damaged your memories a bit when I used Legilimency. I do apologize dear boy, but it was necessary to bring you back to your senses." Dumbledore said, frowning. Wait, when did the man's hair go white. Was it not auburn before? Oh well, who was he to question the crazy antics of an insane Transfiguration teacher.

"Legilimency?" he asked, puzzled. He was sure he had read about it before, and Dumbledore said it had had something to do with his mind, and damaging it. He blanched. The man had damaged him.

"That's right my dear boy, I apologize. You would not have heard of it yet." Dumbledore said kindly, and then he looked at the dark man. "Severus, could you please escort him back to his common room? I have some urgent business to which I must attend." Dumbledore said, and with that he swept out of the room. He looked at the dark man, and the dark man sneered.

"Come." He said, leading the way out into the corridor. As he followed the man, his scathing voice floated behind him. "I suppose you think that your fame can get you out of anything, do you? This was a fluke, Potter, and you will still have detention with me. You will be lucky if you do not get expelled for your outburst tonight. You might even face charges and have your wand snapped." The man said, but all he heard was expelled and wand snapped.

"But sir! I can't get expelled! I can't go back there in the middle of the year! They're already glad to be rid of me for this long! What are they going to say if I go back there now? And…my wand? Why would they snap my wand? What did I do?" he asked, stopping in the middle of the corridor. The man whipped around, coming so close to him he was towering over him.

"One, Potter, it is the beginning of the year, two don't even play that I don't remember game with me! You would be lucky if they didn't put you in Azkaban for attempting to use and unforgivable on a teacher! Your wand and your relatives are the least of your worries right now, boy!" he hissed, his face in a snarl. His breath left his body and he shrunk down.

'My wand…they can't take my wand. I might even be expelled for something I don't bloody well remember! And why the bloody hell would I try to use an unforgivable on a teacher! I always have better control on myself! I've even managed not to use the Cruciatis on all those damned annoying muggles at the orphanage! Why? Why would I attack a teacher? I can't leave my home now! It's who I am! I've already learned so much!' he thought, clutching his wand in his hand. He looked down at it and frowned.

"Potter, pay attention!" the man spat, and he looked back up at him.

"Sir…do you know what happened to my wand?" he asked, causing the man to snatch the strange wand that felt yet so familiar out of his hand.

"Nothing Potter; It looks fine, unless a few scratches makes it unusable for you!" he spat sarcastically, sneering down at him as he handed it back.

"No, sir. I meant where _is_ my wand?" he asked, a little annoyed now.

"In your hand, Potter, or do you not recall me just placing it there? You must have an even lower I.Q. then I thought." The man sneered. He ignored the jibe and asked the question that had been bothering him.

"Sir…why do you keep calling me Potter?" he asked. Was this a new Professor, and if so, he must not be good with names.

"Because Professors usually call students by their last names, Potter." He sneered.

"Sir, you must have me confused with someone else. My last name is Riddle." He said, frowning up at the Professor as the man lost his sneer.

"Who told you that name?" he asked in a deadly hiss, and he backed a few steps away from the Professor.

"Sir…no one told me. That _is_ my name." Riddle said, frowning.

"This is not a game, Potter. I do not believe detention is going to be enough to get the message across this time. We're going to see the headmaster. Follow me, or else." The man said threateningly, and Riddle followed him. Maybe the headmaster could sort this all out. The man was malleable enough for him to convince him to let him stay at Hogwarts, if nothing else. Maybe he could sort out this new confused Professor as well. As they finally reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, the Professor hissed the name of a muggle sweet and Riddle wondered if the man had gone insane until the gargoyle jumped aside and the wall behind the thing moved aside to reveal a staircase that was spiraling upward. He and the Professor stepped onto the thing, and they quickly reached the top. Before the man could knock, an irritatingly familiar voice reached his ears.

"Enter."

'Oh, fantastic. The deputy headmaster is here. There's no way I can manipulate Professor Dippet with him here. Well, here goes nothing.' He thought, stepping into the office with the man.

Ch. End


	5. A Day in the Life of Harry Potter?

Riley Shi-Anne ~ Thanks. Please keep reading, and I'll ask you and everyone else to please have patience with me. I've just gotten back into the groove of writing this. I'm glad you like it, and thank you for reviewing.

KKMayfield ~ lol Here it is. Hope you enjoy.

Allanah-x ~ Thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you like it. Here's the next chappy for you. :D

Lord Lelouch ~ First of all, props for the name. I actually made Tom just a bit older, for purposes known mostly to myself. He needed to have some experience in the magical world already, and I wanted him to be able to far outclass Harry as he is now. And, he needs some of his own memories of Hogwarts for reasons that will become known later. And oh yes, this really will come back to bite Dumbles in the ass. He really won't know what hit him. *Grins sadistically* Here's the update, and I do apologize for taking forever. I was quick to post the first four chapters because they were already written. The next updates will take some time, but I'll keep typing away for you all. Thanks for reviewing. :D

Kaede203 ~ Thanks for the review, and do not worry. I intend to finish. I can promise that. I love writing this story.

As always, thank you all for reviewing. Much love. - IL

* * *

**Ch. 5: A day in the life of…Harry Potter?**

"Headmaster." The professor said, bowing to Dumbledore who was sitting in Dippet's seat.

"Severus? What brings you all the way up here after we just spoke? And with Harry in tow? He needs to rest Severus. He has had a very trying day." Dumbledore said, and Riddle looked around. He was the only one with this man, so he must be who the Professor was referring to.

"I think he prefers to play games, Headmaster." Here, the man paused, walking past Riddle to whisper in the Professor's ear. The professor looked at him with a frown as the other man stood back up.

"Harry, what on earth is this all about?" Dumbledore asked, and Riddle started to get annoyed. He was getting his name wrong on purpose and telling this man he was somebody else. He even had the man convinced he was the Headmaster, unless he killed off Dippet and he really was Headmaster now.

"Sir, why are you calling me that?" he asked, almost rolling his eyes at Dumbledore when the man looked confused.

"Calling you what? Harry?" Dumbledore asked, and Riddle almost shouted his reply before he calmed himself.

"Yes, sir!" he replied through gritted teeth, getting angrier.

"Would you rather I referred to you by surname than your given name?" Dumbledore asked, and he about exploded.

"I don't care what name you use sir, as long as it is the correct one!" he replied in a restrained voice, his jaw clenched with the strain of not yelling at the insufferable old man. Dumbledore's frown deepened.

"And what would the correct name be?" he asked, and Riddle had to take a few deep, calming breaths before he answered.

"Sir, are you quite sure you should not be in St. Mungo's, or are you just playing with me?" he asked, frowning. Surely the man was too old to do this kind of thing. The new Professor was about to say something, but Dumbledore held a hand up to silence him.

"Please, dear boy. Just humor me for a moment and then you can scoot off to bed. I promise." Dumbledore said with a smile. Riddle sighed, and decided to humor the man. He was tired of playing.

"Tom Riddle, sir." He said, and Dumbledore looked thoughtful, but the Professor by Dumbledore flinched away as if he had been burned.

"Very well; a few more questions, Tom. I promise. Where were you raised, who came and told you that you were a wizard, and how did they prove it?" Dumbledore asked, and now he was quite sure the man was mad. He sighed and humored him once again.

"That annoying muggle orphanage, you, sir, and you set my wardrobe on fire." He said impatiently, crossing his arms. Dumbledore looked thoughtful again, and he beckoned to the new Professor. "Sir, can I go back to my dormitory? I feel oddly tired." Tom said, which wasn't entirely a lie. Dumbledore didn't answer him, but started to whisper to the new Professor, and something he said must have upset the man, because he flinched again, severly. After they finished talking, Dumbledore looked at Tom again.

"Tom, I apologize again. I promise this time that I will keep you for only a few minutes longer, if you let me examine your mind. After that, I shall have Professor Snape bring you back to your dormitory and when you awake in the morning, I want you to eat breakfast and then Professor Snape will lead you up to my office again after that." Dumbledore said, and Tom frowned.

"Sir, what do you mean, examine my mind, and what about classes tomorrow? Can our meeting not wait until after?" he asked, and Dumbledore shook his head.

"I just need you to come sit over here and look into my eyes, Tom. And do not worry about classes tomorrow. You can ask to borrow a classmate's notes if need be. Now, come over here if you please." He said, and Tom walked over without comment.

"What do I need to do, sir?" He asked, looking up at the man. Dumbledore just muttered something he couldn't hear and suddenly he was reliving moments of his life, and the life of some other child as well. Memories of the orphanage and its hateful caretaker Ms. Cole sprang to the forefront of his mind, and after a few minutes of searching through memories, Dumbledore withdrew and Tom blinked. As he looked up at him, Dumbledore frowned.

"Tom?" he asked, and Tom blinked.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, feeling his tiredness increase.

"When you go back to your common room, and even when you go to classes for the next few days, you will find that things have changed. You will not know any of your classmates, and your teachers will be different. It may be hard to believe, but you are a completely different person than who you think you are, Tom. We were calling you Harry earlier because that is what people usually call you. Your name is Harry Potter now. You will find everyone you see calling you Harry or Potter, so be prepared." Dumbledore said, and Tom shook his head.

"Is this some kind of joke, Professor?" Tom asked, standing up.

"Not at all, Tom. I assure you I am telling the truth. Somehow, and we do not know how, your mind is in the body of another child, Tom. Almost fifty years have passed since you last attended school here. Most of the teachers you know are retired." Dumbledore said, and Tom looked at him skeptically.

"With all due respect, sir, when are the mind healers expecting you at St. Mungo's?" Tom asked, and to his surprise, Dumbledore burst out laughing.

"Yes, my boy, some say I have lost it a bit. But I assure you that is not the case here. Have a look for yourself." Dumbledore said, waving his wand and conjuring a small mirror which he handed to Tom. When Tom looked in the mirror, he almost gasped. It was indeed another person starting back at him. They did look similar, but this child was somewhat different. And that scar…

"Sir, what is this scar from? And…how old is he? What year is he in?" Tom asked, looking back up at Dumbledore.

"As an answer to the first question, Tom, I will tell you at another time. As for your other questions, he is eleven, and he is in his first year, Tom. What year do you remember being from?" Dumbledore asked, looking curiously at him. Tom was a little annoyed about the scar thing, and he could tell it was a brush off, and more important than he thought at first, but he decided to ignore it for now.

"Third year, sir. Has Hogwarts changed much? I mean, besides the teachers?" Tom asked, glancing at the other professor before looking back at Dumbledore.

"Quite, my dear boy. The castle itself has not changed much, but the caretaker and the grounds keeper have as well, and some of the curriculum. I shall have to ask you to attend class under the guise of Harry Potter, Tom. When others call you by this name, you must answer. This is some of the strangest magic, and indeed no one has ever seen anything like it, so no one would believe you if you told them who you really are. Can you do this, Tom? At least until we can get your mind back where it belongs and we can get Harry Potter's mind back into his own body?" Dumbledore asked, and Tom smiled wryly.

"I do not have much of a choice, do I sir? And by the way, who is the caretaker now, and who is the grounds keeper, sir?" Tom asked, causing Dumbledore to smile.

"The caretaker is now one Mr. Argus Filch, and the grounds keeper is Rubeus Hagrid." Dumbledore said, smiling at the look of incredulity on Tom's face.

"Sir, with all due respect, you have got to be joking. Hagrid? The big oaf who used to sneak off into the Forbidden Forrest and wrestle trolls? Do you think he can handle that responsibility?" Tom asked distastefully. Dumbledore suddenly looked stern.

"Now Tom, you will give the utmost respect to your teachers, piers, and both the caretaker and grounds keeper like I have come to expect from you, is that clear?" Dumbledore asked, fixing him with a stern gaze.

"Yes, sir. I would not do anything else, I assure you." Tom said, refusing to look away from Dumbledore like some ashamed child.

"Good, now, as you may have noticed, I am the headmaster now, Tom. If you have any problems, go to your Head of House, Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the other Professor, "and he will come to me. Is that understood Tom?" Dumbledore asked, his face kindly again.

"It is sir, only…" Tom said, wondering silently.

"Only what, Tom?" Dumbledore asked, his face politely questioning.

"Well, what house am I in now, sir?" he asked, looking between Dumbledore and his head of House.

"You are still in Slytherin, Tom." Dumbledore said, smiling.

"Thank you sir. May I leave?" Tom asked, looking at his new Head of House.

"You may, Tom. You have had a very trying day, and I know you have much to think over tonight. I will tell you more about the life of the body you inhabit when you come to see me tomorrow. I will have to prepare you for certain things." Dumbledore said, and with that he waved Tom and the professor toward the door. Tom stood and began to follow the dark man toward the door, when Dumbledore spoke up behind them.

"Remember Tom, no cursing other students. It is still against the rules."

"Yes sir." Tom said, starting down the stairs behind the professor.

"And I know it is rather last minute, Severus, but would you come back up once you have put Mr. Riddle to bed?" Dumbledore called, and the professor called back to him.

"Yes Headmaster. I shall be back in a few." He said, continuing down the spiral staircase until they reached the bottom. As they walked, Tom asked the professor a question.

"Professor, if you don't mind my asking, what is it that you teach?" Tom asked, following the man through the corridor and down a flight of stairs.

"I teach potions, Mr. Riddle, and I expect you to memorize your class schedule and be on time for every class, is that understood?" he asked, and Tom answered right away.

"Perfectly, sir. I also wanted to know, do I still have to serve that detention, sir?" Tom asked, trying to memorize the man's mannerisms.

"Yes, you do. No student has ever gotten out of a detention because he 'can't remember' doing anything to receive it and you will not be the first, am I clear?" the professor asked, leading him through several more corridors and down several flights of steps as they spoke.

"Perfectly, Professor. I apologize for asking. If I may, sir, what is the new Slytherin password?" Tom asked, and he got silence for a response for a few seconds before the man spoke up.

"I will tell you that once we reach the Slytherin common room. Until then, I suggest you stay quiet for the remainder of this walk." The professor said, and Tom obliged, looking around to try to spot visible differences in the castle.

'Dumbledore wasn't lying. The castle looks much the same as it did the last time I walked these halls. It's almost as if no time has passed, but Dumbledore couldn't be lying about the whole thing. For one, what would be the point of it? Two, even the Headmaster doesn't have the authority to replace the whole staff, especially on a whim. I would have to go back to class sometime, and I would eventually see if he were lying.' Tom thought, and before he knew it they were walking down the familiar corridor that led to his common room. When they reached the blank stretch of stone that served as a barrier between the corridor and the common room, the professor stopped him and signaled for him to be silent for a moment. After the professor was sure no one was around, he turned back toward Tom.

"Mr. Riddle. Before I return you to your common room, I will need to go over a few things with you. I will call you Potter in public, as will most others, and his friends will call you Harry. Potter associates with four other Slytherin first years, as far as I can tell. Their names are Draco Malfoy, he is the blonde, Blaise Zabini, the African child, Vincent Crabbe, the lighter haired shorter one of the two bigger boys, and Gregory Goyle, the taller and darker haired of the two bigger boys. You will need to know this so you do not look suspicious to your classmates. The only reason I am telling you this is because the Headmaster has examined your mind and determined that you are indeed telling the truth. I do not know how long this will last, but you will remember that you are still a student, and therefore you are still to listen to your Professors; especially your head of House, myself. If you have any problems, you are to bring them to me so I can bring them to the Headmaster, as he has already told you. Is all of this clear?" the Professor asked, and Tom replied.

"Yes sir. Now if I may inquire, what is the new password?" Tom asked, and the Professor sighed.

"I was getting to that, Mr. Riddle. The new password is 'Aconite'. Your dormitory is the third door back on the right hand side. Just wait for his friends to go to bed and the empty bed will be the one you sleep in." the Professor said, and without another word, he turned and began to walk away. Tom turned back to the wall after watching the professor for a moment, and whispered the password to the wall, watching it dissolve away into nothing to allow him passage. When he stepped into the room, he was greeted by a ton of questions from two of the four the professor had described, Zabini and Malfoy, if he remembered correctly. They fired off questions at him one after another, but he raised a hand silently.

"Can we save the questions for tomorrow? I'm almost too tired to stay on my feet as it is." Tom said, and with satisfaction he watched as the boys, however reluctant they might be, stopped asking questions and merely led the way to the dormitory. It was late, after all. He stepped into the room and walked slowly as he watched the other four take four of the five empty beds, and he went to the one still empty to lie down, and as it happened he was right next to the blonde. It would be easy to remember at the least. He noticed with some curiosity that there was one boy in the room who was already asleep. There were six beds in total, and while Harry appeared to associate with only his dorm mates, the sleeping boy was never mentioned. The curiosity disappeared however as he lay down and started to drift to sleep almost instantly. He could worry about everything in the morning, when he had to go talk to the insane Headmaster again.

"Harry, wake up!" the blonde called to him, and he sat up groggily.

"What is it Malfoy?" Tom asked, and the blonde frowned.

"I thought we were back to a first name basis. Was I wrong?" the blonde asked, and Tom shook his head.

"No, I'm just still tired. Sorry Draco." He offered with a false smile, and the blonde seemed to have bought it and smiled back.

"Professor Snape said to wake you up early to get your shower in and make sure you had breakfast. You usually do it on your own so I didn't think I needed to bother, but you slept in today. You need to hurry if you want your shower beforehand." Draco said, and with that he set about gathering his own things for his shower. Tom got up and started to do the same.

'Stupid Dumbledore. If he's letting me out of classes for the day, the least he could do is let me sleep in.' Tom thought grumpily, gathering his things as well and noticing with distaste that Harry's clothing seemed to be in much the same poor condition his clothing used to be in, if not worse. Everything was at least twice as big as his small frame, and it was tattered and worn. Oh well, he would have to make due. The robes looked to be new, so that was a plus. He looked again at Harry's wand for a few long seconds. It was so alien and still so oddly familiar. He felt it would work for him if need be, but still not as well as his own, and he still wondered where in the world his own wand was, especially in this time period. He shook his head to clear it and gathered his stuff to go wash, following the other four to the toilets and setting his stuff down on an empty space on the bench in the shower room.

He hurried through washing himself, using a quick spell to dry himself that hadn't went unnoticed by the other four.

"Harry, where did you learn that spell? That's a fifth year spell at least." Draco said with a touch of awe.

"A book." Tom said evasively, and set to clothing himself while the others were still drying. He went to step out into the common room when one of the boys called for him to wait.

"Hold up, Harry. Don't you remember what we discussed just the other day? It isn't safe for you to be walking on your own. Wait for us." Blaise said, and Tom shrugged and waited. It was no use annoying his supposed friends if he needed to pretend to be the boy. He wondered idly why this boy needed protection though, and from whom. When the other four were done drying and dressing, they all walked down to breakfast. Tom noticed with amusement that the Gryffindors were dodging out of the way of the group, and he wondered why when one of the boys brought it up conveniently.

"Ha. Looks like they still think you're going to hex them all. I think it's great that everyone still believes you're going to be the next Dark Lord." Draco said, laughing beside him. That idea struck Tom like lighting. What had this boy been doing until now? Especially with that particular rumor going around. Tom forced a smile and nodded in agreement, answering lightly.

"Yeah, I know, but it's not like they have any real reason to think that." Tom said, and the smarter two, in Tom's opinion smirked at him.

"Well, they actually do, but…only because we helped it along a little. You did say it was a good thing they thought that mate. That, and with your threat to Weasley and the other two, and especially when you cursed Weasley and his two older brothers, people are thinking that more than ever. It's just the fact that we know you that makes it unbelievable to us." Draco said, and Tom was almost stricken silent. This boy wanted to be feared that much? That must have driven Dumbledore especially crazy. Tom smiled.

"And what about me makes you believe I won't be?" Tom asked jokingly, although he genuinely wondered.

"You're too nice, mate. We almost couldn't believe it when you called Granger a Mudblood and told her to go crawl back into her nest in the library. That had us in tears, mate. We almost couldn't stop laughing after we got over the shock of seeing you call her that." Blaise said, laughing again. Tom nodded noncommittally. He didn't know this boy's character enough to say anything either way at this point without giving something away. Draco clapped him on the back.

"Nice or not though, you're on your way." Draco joked, leading the way into the great hall. Tom shook his head. This child, whoever he was, was turning out to be a lot like him, only Dumbledore seemed to like this child a lot more. His attention was captured immediately as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast. He felt a great dark energy from up near the staff table, and when he looked, the dark energy was emanating from a rather weak looking man in an absurd purple turban. The man was sitting next to Professor Snape, trying to make conversation while the man ignored it. How could the professors _not_ sense the aura around the seemingly weak man? There was much more to him than meets the eye, of that Tom was sure.

He could no more than speculate though as he was led over to the Slytherin table to eat, and when he was done, he got up to exit the Great Hall and his group followed him. He turned to say something to them when the Professor strode toward him, beckoning him to follow. He nodded and did so, giving the group a short explanation as to what he was doing.

"I have to go meet with the Headmaster. I'll see you all after class." He said, and followed the professor without a word. When they reached the Headmaster's office and were ordered in, he wondered what exactly the insane man wanted with him that he needed to be excused from classes for the day.

"Ah, Tom. How nice to see you, my boy. You may go, Severus." Dumbledore said, giving the professor a gracious smile.

"Yes, headmaster." The professor said, inclining his head briefly before leaving the office.

"Come, Tom. Sit. There are many things we need to discuss." Dumbledore said kindly, gesturing toward the seat opposite his on the other side of his desk. Tom obliged, sitting in the squashy chair and wondering what the old man would possibly want to talk to him about. He knew the man neither liked him nor trusted him, so what was he playing at?

"Tom." He started, pressing the tips of his fingers together as if he were thinking.

"Yes, sir?" Tom asked, annoyed that he might have to drag the information out of the man.

"As you might have realized already, the boy whose body you are currently inhabiting is famous in our world." Dumbledore said, smiling benignly.

"Actually, sir, I haven't. Professor Snape mentioned something about fame briefly when he thought I was lying last night, but I have no idea what it was about. Is that what I am here for sir? To learn about Harry Potter?" Tom asked, actually interested now.

"Yes, Tom. That is correct. Now, the first thing you must understand, Tom, is that this child is famous for something he cannot even remember." Dumbledore said, and Tom considered this for a moment.

"Go on, sir." Tom said politely, wanting to know more.

"When Harry Potter was only a year old, the Dark Lord of this era, or that is, the Dark Lord of ten years ago, went into his house, murdered his parents, and attempted to murder him. But then, something went wrong." Dumbledore said, in what Tom thought was a very theatric way. He thought it was almost disgusting how much he knew the man was enjoying telling him this. He could tell by his mannerisms. He wasn't unhappy at all. His mood was light and airy, almost as if discussing the weather. Not having much of a choice, Tom played along.

"What went wrong, sir?" Tom asked, feigning polite interest.

"As the story goes, the Dark Lord attempted to use the killing curse on the child, and it rebounded on him, ripping his soul from his body." Dumbledore said, looking at Tom to gauge his reaction.

"First and foremost, sir, why on earth would he want to kill a child?" Tom asked, looking puzzled, though for some reason his heart was racing at the mention of the Dark Lord.

"Ah, as to that, no one knows Tom." Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

"Okay, sir. I'm with you so far. So, you're telling me that this Dark Lord could not kill single a one year old child with the killing curse? Then you're telling me, even more ridiculous yet, that an unblockable unreflectable and undeflectable curse bounced back on him somehow and killed him?" Tom asked, shaking his head. It was almost too unbelievable to be true, and yet somehow he knew it was, though killed did not seem to be the right word in this situation. He was proven right at that last with Dumbledore's next statements.

"Oh, not at all, Tom. Not at all. I believe, in fact, that he did not die. I believe he is still out there, less than alive but not quite dead. I do not know when he will return, Tom, but I know that he will one day. That is an eventuality I must prepare you for depending on how long you inhabit this body." Dumbledore said, and Tom nodded, trying to ponder the implications of what the older wizard was saying.

'So; this Dark Lord is still after Harry Potter, but why? What does this child have that the Dark Lord wants to get rid of so much?' Tom wondered silently, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what was so special about this one child. Then, he decided to ask something he had not thought to ask yet.

"Professor?" he asked, and Dumbledore fixed him with a questioning gaze.

"Yes, Tom?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"Who is the Dark Lord that tried to kill this boy?" Tom asked, and he felt his heart start to race with what he just identified as excitement. Dumbledore frowned.

"As to that, Tom, I cannot yet tell you. All in good time, though, my boy. All in good time." Dumbledore said, smiling.

"Yes, sir. Is that all you needed to tell me, Professor?" Tom asked, annoyed about not being told what he wanted, but interested in the vague information he had actually gotten from the old man.

"It is, Tom. I just thought you might want the day off of classes to think about all I have told you. Everywhere you go, people will whisper about Harry Potter. They will either love you or fear you. You need to be prepared for the possibility that some might even attack you. The Dark Lord had many supporters, Tom, and not all of them were caught." Dumbledore said, shaking his head with a grim look on his face.

"Yes sir. May I leave now?" Tom asked, eager to see if the library had any information on Harry Potter, the Dark Lord or any new jinxes that have been created over the past fifty years.

"Yes, you may. I would ask that you either return to your common room or go to the library. Keep up on your studies, Tom." Dumbledore said, and with that, Tom got up and left the headmaster's office, heading straight for the library. There had to be some newspaper articles about Harry Potter there somewhere. When he reached the library, he indeed found quite a few articles about that night roughly ten years ago. To his disappointment, none of the articles had any details the old man had left out. Any of the articles about the Dark Lord just held reports about attacks. They didn't even refer to him by name, as it seemed they were even too scared to put it in print. They referred to him as 'You-Know-Who', or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. It was ridiculous and frustrating how little information they had on the man except the reports of what he was doing to the wizarding world at the time. He did find one very recent article that caught his attention but only because it was unusual; it really had nothing to do with Harry Potter or the Dark Lord.

Someone had tried to rob Gringotts, the wizard bank. If he remembered right, everyone said you had to be mad to try something like that. He had always wanted a vault there, as it would have given him another connection to his heritage, but he wouldn't have had any money to put in it anyway. Slightly put-out that he had found no new information, he spent the rest of his would-be class time studying up on the current curriculum, and by the time lunch time rolled around, he was a bit ahead. He would continue his studies later, along with looking up any new spells that might have been invented after his hunger was assuaged. On his way to lunch, he noticed that the Gryffindors were still avoiding him and he smiled. This could definitely be fun, if nothing else. When he finally sat down at the Slytherin table for lunch, he sat with the small Slytherin group, but he stayed out of the conversation. He was still thinking about where else he might find information on Harry Potter. He couldn't outright ask anyone except maybe Professor Snape because he knew the situation. He decided that asking him was probably the best course of action, so without consulting the group, he left after lunch to go down to the dungeons.

Unfortunately for him, the Slytherins had been too quick. Despite his best effort to leave without them, they wouldn't let him. He almost cursed them all, but he reminded himself that he should not draw attention to himself, and that cursing his housemates would be a bad idea. Slytherins stuck together; it was a rule. It had been exactly the same fifty years ago, when he last attended, as it was a rule that Salazar Slytherin had made himself, and was therefore considered a law in Slytherin House. He sighed and put up with their inane chatter as they made their way back to the dungeons. He needed to talk to the Professor alone, but he could cast a silencing charm on the door to prevent being overheard. It was annoying, but he had been planning to take that particular precaution anyway. He almost sneered at the way the group was like a large shadow to him, but he thought about it and found that they might just end up being useful to him in the long run, so he would put up with them. They reached the office of their head of house rather quickly, and Tom held up a hand when the group moved toward the door.

"There is a matter that I must speak to the professor about." Tom said, and when the two bigger ones, Vince and Greg if he recalled, shifted as if to follow, he turned a cold look toward them. "Alone." He specified, his voice as cold as an iceberg. After that, all four Slytherins took a hint and backed off, leaning on the wall opposite the door. He nodded to them, then turned and knocked on the heavy door.

"Enter." The professor said from inside the office. Tom smirked before opening the door. He wondered what it would take to make this man squirm, but quickly pressed the thought aside. He needed information, and in order to get that he needed to play nice with the man. He closed the door behind him and cast locking a locking charm on it, followed by a proximity silencing ward around the office. Then he turned to the professor to find the man watching him closely.

"Good evening, Professor Snape. I just wondered if I could ask you about Harry Potter?" he asked politely, and the man sneered.

"All you need to know, Mr. Riddle, is that he is a self-centered, arrogant fame junkie whom struts about the castle as if he owns the place. I am surprised he even ended up in Slytherin. The child is a consummate Gryffindor if I've ever met one. He has no sense of self control, and he purposely lets his classmates fail around him to make himself look better. Potter is blown much out of proportion, Mr. Riddle, as is his reputation. You would do well _not_ to act like Potter, and if anyone asks, just tell them you've had an epiphany or something of the sort. No one would guess what has actually happened, and as much as I hate to admit it, you would make Potter a much better person, at least to those outside the know, if you just acted as yourself instead of trying to act like him." Professor Snape said, and Tom's lip tried to curl in disgust at the man but he didn't let it.

'It sounds as if he really hates Potter. What he says seems in conflict with what I've learned so far. If Potter was a consummate Gryffindor, the Slytherins would all hate him, but seeing as he's got a group of them protecting him that are actually, dare I say, friends with him, that this teacher must be wrong. Maybe his view is skewed by the hatred, but what reason does he have to hate a child? What could Potter have possibly done to make this man hate him so?' he wondered, studying the man before him as he was studied in return. He decided to ask for a bit more information. For some reason, he felt he needed to know as much about Potter as he could. He could ask about the Dark Lord after he was through with this. The thing that Tom loathed, though, was that his need to know about Potter was bordering on obsession. It was even more than his need to know about the Dark Lord. He hated it so, because he was never obsessed with anything! Others were obsessed with him! He did not do long term commitments, and obsession counted as long term. As much as it bothered him, though, it did not stop the seeming need to know everything about Potter, and so he asked another question.

"Could I have a bit more information, Professor, just in case the need does arise for me to act like him? I would need to know his mannerisms, and such; how he acts and how he would react in a given situation. Maybe some more information on why he is famous, so that I do not seem uninformed about 'my own' past, as it were." Tom said with a look of polite interest on his face.

"I am afraid that I cannot tell you too much about that, Mr. Riddle, as even I myself am as uninformed as the rest of the world on that matter. All anyone, including Potter, knows, is what you've no doubt already read and what the Headmaster has told you. Everything else remains a mystery to this day." Professor Snape said, and for some reason Tom could tell that he was lying, but he let it slide for the moment. He was just getting to the part that made his heart race for some reason every time it was mentioned.

"Sir, one more question, if I may. Could you tell me anything about the Dark Lord?" Tom asked, his stomach twisting nervously as it never had before. This was it. He might finally find out why it was that he was obsessed with Harry Potter, and why just hearing about the Dark Lord made his heart race with excitement.

End Ch.


End file.
